


Memory Lane

by fuxfell



Category: Neverwinter Nights
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/M, OOC-ness, Post-Canon, Romance, Sexual Content, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:36:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 58,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1930395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuxfell/pseuds/fuxfell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PostOC, no MotB, Bishop-Centric. Bishop and the KC meet again - under strange circumstances. Be warned: Weirdness and serious OOCness ahead. It's deliberate though, so please don't flame me. </p><p>The Lady in Black is not mine, I just play with her a bit. If you are offended by implied rape, please don't read.</p><p>Rated M for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Downpour

 

**Chapter 1 - Downpour**

 

Lana entered the Hart and Horn, throwing back her hood, pushing some of the sodden red locks clinging to her face away. It was raining cats and dogs outside, and she was glad to be inside at last, warm and hopefully soon dry as well. She let her gaze wander through the small taproom, now full of people seeking shelter from the downpour, just like her.

Suddenly her eyes snapped back to a table they had just passed, widened in disbelief. It could not be, could it...? But sure as all nine hells, it was him, sitting at a table, alone, gazing into a mug of ale held in his hand. She stared for a moment, still not believing she would run into him, of all people.

As if he had felt her gaze, he lifted his head, his strange eyes meeting hers.

_Damn. He's noticed me._

But his face stayed impassive as ever. No sign of recognition showed.

_Still playing mind games, is he?_

Well, if he did not want to acknowledge her, all the better. If there was one person on this plane whose company she was not keen on, it was him. And if it was not for the blasted cloudburst outside, she would just turn and leave.

She abruptly turned away to the counter, where a small elderly man tried to cope with the unexpected onslaught of customers on his little inn. She ordered an ale, handed him a few copper coins and went to a table that was miraculously free of patrons. Taking off her sword scabbard, she leaned the greatsword she carried against the wall behind her chair, sighing with relief to be rid of the weight.

She normally did not use weapons, but sometimes they came in handy. And since she was no expert in wielding one, she was not able to impress any foe with her melee skills. So she preferred to carry something that left an impression just by hitting someone, regardless where you actually hit. Hence the greatsword. But sometimes the weight, together with the chain shirt she wore, was a drag.

She took off her sodden cloak and draped it over the scabbard to dry. That was another advantage of a weapon that was nearly as big as her – she could use it as a hallstand.

She let herself plop down on the chair, and pulled a second one to put her feet on. It was bad manners, but what the hell. Her legs were aching. She took a long swig from her ale and closed her eyes, savouring the warmth of the room after the cold rain.

_Ah, bliss._

"Excuse me...?", a voice she knew too damn well asked hesitatingly.

She opened her eyes again and looked up at him, annoyed.

_And I hoped he'd leave me in peace._

She really had no great desire to talk to him, so she just looked at him, eyebrows drawn up, not saying a word. If he wanted to say something, he'd better get it over with and get back to his own table again.

But he just stood there, looking down at her, holding his mug in both hands, appearing nervous, uncertain.

"Can... can I sit down?", he asked, still in that hesitating tone.

_Oh gods, what is he up to this time?_

She wordlessly indicated at the chair opposite to hers with her mug, and took another swig of her ale, still not saying a word.

He sat down, putting his tankard on the table, but still clutching it with both hands, as if he needed to hold on to something.

"I'm sorry, but I saw you staring at me, and I thought... I...", he stuttered and fell silent, looking down into his ale again.

She sighed in exasperation. What was it with the drama?

"What do you want, Bishop?", she asked bluntly.

His eyes lifted quickly, searching her face. "So you _do_ know me, then! I hoped so." And after a second, wonder in his voice: "Bishop... is that my name?"

This was getting a bit hard to swallow. She took her feet from the chair, sat up and put her mug back on the table with a thump. Some ale sloshed over the rim, leaving a puddle. He flinched.

"Listen", she said. "I don't know what game you are up to this time, and I could not care less. Just take your ale and get back to your own table like a good little backstabber, will you?"

"Game? But..."

She put her arms on the table, leaning over and bringing her face closer to his, her eyes narrowed to angry slits. "Which part of "get back to your table" did you not understand?", she asked, very calmly. "I might have let you go, but that does _not_ make us pals, are we clear? Now shove off, I'm not interested in what you've got to say."

There was something like despair on his face, and he reached out, taking hold of one of her hands over the table. "Please, listen to me...", he started.

Lana looked down at his hand, grabbing hers, and then slowly let her gaze travel to his face again, her eyes cold and threatening. He swallowed and quickly retracted his hand.

"Sorry", he mumbled, "but please..."

She threw her hands in the air in frustration. "Gods, what does it take to get rid of you? Will you just leave already?"

He flinched again, but then a stubborn expression settled on his face. "No.", he said.

"What do you mean, no?", she asked, starting to get seriously pissed.

"I mean no, I won't leave.", he said, still looking stubborn.

She clenched her jaw. "Fine", she gritted. "Stay. Then I will go." She shoved her chair back and got up.

"I'll follow", he said.

"Pardon me?", she said, not believing her ears.

"I said, I'll follow you", he repeated.

"You'd better think that over!"

He lifted his eyes to her, and she could see grim determination in them. "What are you going to do, attack me because I want to talk to you?", he asked. "Then you'll have to do that – because I will not leave before you speak with me."

She stared at him for a moment, then let herself fall back on her chair in resignation. He was right, she could not really fry him just because he was annoying her, could she?

It was tempting, though.

"Fine then", she groaned. "Say your piece and begone."

He drew a deep breath and looked at her for some moments, obviously at a loss how to start. "It's quite obvious you don't like me much", he said at last.

She nearly laughed. "Well, what else is new?", she said.

"Please, I'm sorry if I did something to anger you, but..."

"Anger me?", she interrupted, not believing her ears. "Are you joking? That hardly covers what you did!"

"Please, tell me", he said softly, putting his arms on the table and leaning over, in a movement that mirrored hers earlier. But instead of anger, there was eagerness on his face.

"What?", she asked, taken aback.

"I don't remember", he said, his voice still low. "That's what I tried to tell you all along."

"Bishop, stop this game right now, or I swear I'll..." She broke off when she looked into his eyes. "You're serious about this, aren't you?", she asked incredulously.

He nodded. "Dead serious."

She searched his face for some moments, trying to gauge the thoughts behind it, tried to find out if he was telling the truth.

_Damn it, he was always a good liar, how am I to know?_

He _seemed_ to be sincere. But with him, that was not saying much. And this tale he was telling was just a bit tall.

_He's probably having a real good laugh at my expense right now._

The thought made her mood turn sour.

As if he read her thoughts, he leaned even closer, pleading with his eyes. "Please, I'm telling you the truth", he said. "It's been like this for some months. I don't remember... anything." He swallowed. "You're the first person I meet who knows me. I can't leave before you tell me what you know about me."

She stared at him over the table, hard. "Believe me, if this is some joke, I'll make you regret it."

He shrugged. "Fair enough. But it's no joke. Please, tell me everything. So... my name is Bishop? What kind of name is that?"

It was her turn to shrug. "It's the name my uncle knew you by."

"So... I know your uncle? Is that how we met?"

She still had the feeling of being led around by her nose. It was not a feeling she appreciated. On the other hand, he _did_ seem serious.

She sighed and decided to play along for now. But if she found out it _was_ one of his mind games, he would find out what the words _Brimstone Blast_ and _Chilling Tentacles_ really meant.

"Yes", she answered. "In his tavern."

"Your uncle has a tavern, then. Would you tell me his name? Maybe that will ring a bell... since my name did not."

"Duncan", she said, her gaze fixed on his face. "Duncan Farlong."

"Duncan... Duncan...", he said, as if testing the name on his tongue. She could detect nothing of the inevitable scowl the mention of the name usually brought up on his face.

He shook his head, disappointed. "No", he said, sounding sad. "Nothing. So, how did we meet there?"

"Well", she said dryly. "I came in, said hello, and you answered that if you wanted a wench, you'd visit the local brothel. But you also advised me to stick around, because after a few more drinks, I _might_ start looking good to you."

He choked on the swig of ale he was taking and coughed hard for some moments. "You're pulling my leg", he croaked when he could talk again.

She just shook her head, beginning to enjoy this game despite herself. "No", she said. "Besides, it was one of the nicer things you said to me in the course of our acquaintance."

He stared at her, his eyes wide. "I think I'm beginning to understand why you don't like me", he said.

"No kidding", she said. "You don't know half of it, wolf boy."

"So, you know about the wolf following me, then?", he asked, surprised.

"Karnwyr? Of course – he's your only friend, I think. That might be because he's the only creature you treat with some respect."

He shook his head slowly. "The picture you give of me is somewhat hard to believe – I can't be that bad now, can I?"

She threw her head back and laughed. "Bad? To be merely bad, you'd have to improve a lot, believe me."

She drew the second chair back and propped up her feet again. Might as well get comfortable, this could take a while.

 


	2. Enemies Lost

 

Bishop drew his brows together, leaned back in his chair and started to push his mug around on the table, his eyes fixed on it. "I think you're exaggerating", he said.

Lana shrugged, still grinning. "Please yourself. If it helps you sleep at night – I don't care if you believe me."

He looked up, brows still drawn together. "You seem to know me pretty well. Why, if I am that awful?"

She shrugged again. "Necessity. I needed your help, unfortunately."

His face lit up a little. "Well, if I helped you out, there you go. I can't have been as black as you paint me."

She snorted. "A friend of mine got abducted by some really bad guys. You're a good tracker and were my only chance of finding her quick enough to save her. Your answer was that it was not your problem, you were not running after some farm girl, and certainly not with any kin of Duncan. My uncle had to blackmail you to help."

" _Blackmail_ me? But... how?"

_Now, do I tell him the whole story?_

Better not. Not yet, anyway. Besides, she still was not fully convinced this was not some sick game.

"Obviously, you had some old debt to him", she said, noncommittally.

"So... you're telling me that some woman's life was at stake, and I could help save her, but would not?"

She nodded. "Exactly."

"But... why?", he asked, bewildered.

She smiled thinly. "Because you never do anything for anyone but yourself."

"Come now", he protested. "No one is that bad."

She took a swig of her ale, regarding him calmly. "If you don't like what you're hearing, you might want to leave. Because it gets worse, believe me." She waved to the serving girl for another ale.

The girl came over to take her empty tankard away.

"I'd like another one, too, please", Bishop addressed the girl, shaken. "Looks like I'm going to need it."

_Well, I've certainly never heard him use the word "please" as much._

They sat in silence for a moment, Bishop obviously deep in thought, Lana observing him intently. When the girl had brought the ales, he toasted her with a sarcastic smile reminiscent of his old sneer.

"Well then", he said. "Don't spare me, tell me the worst. Did we rescue the damsel in distress?"

That sounded much more like the Bishop she knew. She looked at him sharply, but despite the cynical tone of his voice, his eyes seemed sad, wounded, with no trace of the predatory gleam that was so typical for him.

"Yes, we did rescue her", she said, feeling the old anguish rise in her. They had saved Shandra... only so she could sacrifice herself later. So many of her friends... dead, lost, gone. But the traitor had survived, sitting at her table, drinking ale. Where was the justice in that?

"You sound sad", he said. "Why, if we saved her?"

"We only saved her so she could die later", she said, bitterly.

"I'm sorry", he said softly. "You cared for her very much, didn't you?"

"I promised her to protect her", she said, and it was her time to stare into her ale. "I let her down. And she died."

"I still don't understand", he said. "Protect her from what? Why was she abducted? And how did she die?"

She made a noise that was something between a snort and a laugh. "How much time do you have?"

"Enough", he answered, fixing his gaze on her face.

_Hells – where do I start?_

"Ever heard the term King of Shadows?", she asked.

He frowned. "I've heard stories. Some evil power, trying to bring about the end of the world or something. Luckily was stopped by a couple of hero types. What does that have to do with everything?"

"Do you know about Crossroad Keep?"

He nodded. "Belongs to the Lady Knight that played the major role against that King of Shadows. But I heard there was some betrayal. Heard one of the comrades of the Knight Captain left it open to enemy invasion, so it got overrun by the undead. Nasty story."

She saluted him with her tankard. "Well, I'm the Knight Captain. Guess who's the nasty traitor?"

He stared at her in disbelief, and she could practically see the wheels turning behind his forehead. "You're making this up."

She took a deep swig of her ale. "Unfortunately not.", she stated. "Lana Steel, at your service. So not pleased to meet you again, Bishop."

"Oh gods", he said, weakly.

She nodded. "I second that."

"Why? Why would I have done anything like that?", he asked, a desperate tone in his voice.

Lana shrugged. "Because you thought mine was the losing side. And you told me that's where you never were found."

He stared at her, horror on his face. "You make me sound like a monster."

She shrugged. "You're as close as you get while still being human."

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and closed his eyes, shaking his head. "This can't be true!"

She smiled without humour. "Don't say I did not warn you beforehand. Shall I stop?"

He let his hand sink and opened his eyes. His face was pale, but he said: "Might as well hear it all, I guess. But I still am not sure if I believe you."

"Not my problem. So, where were we? Ah yes, so you left for what you thought was the winning side. After you sabotaged the gates of my Keep, so Garius and his undead could overrun us. We beat them, but it cost us dearly. There's a lot of blood on your hands from that day alone. Not that it made a difference, really – there was plenty of blood on them before that."

His face went even paler. "Please – tell me that is not true", he said.

"Sorry, wolf boy – it's the truth or nothing. If you want sweet lies, find a whore and pay for it."

He swallowed. "Fine – what am I? Serial killer? Mass murderer?"

_Closer to home than you think._

But she only said, matter-of-factly: "Well, you kill whoever stands in your way. Without compunction. As far as I know, there had been more than a few fatalities before we even met. You were kind of proud of that."

"Proud...?", he said, with effort.

"Yes, your philosophy is that whoever is too weak to defend himself deserves to die. You never get tired of pointing that out. And you don't mind dealing said death yourself."

He swallowed. "If all that is true, how come you included me in your group of companions?"

Lana sighed. "You have your uses. Apart from my father, you're the finest tracker I've ever met. You're damn good with your bow, and your skill with your scimitars is nothing to sneeze at. And I needed every ally I could get. Besides...", she hesitated, sadness rising in her, "I hoped you might change, at least a little. That you would realise there were some things worth fighting for, other than your own interests. The King of Shadows... he threatened not just me, but all of the Sword Coast. I thought not even you could ally with that. The worst I expected from you was just to vanish into thin air, but not defect to an enemy like that. I thought that beyond even you. I was wrong, and many paid with their lives for my error."

"Oh, _gods_ ", he choked.

She said nothing, sipping her ale, waiting if he wanted to go on.

"So... I betrayed you, but you let me go, as you said?", he asked at last, his voice strangled.

She looked up and found his eyes on her, with a haunted expression.

"No", she said. "You just left, after gloating some. But that was not the last time we met. The last time I saw you was when you faced us, at the side of Garius. Then you suddenly decided you'd betray him as well, and you just left again. That was when I let you go, instead of striking you down together with your former master."

"I betrayed you to him, and then I betrayed him to you?", he asked, still pale under his tan.

"Actually, you decided you did not like the tone with which he talked to you. So you said you'd be off."

"I see", he said, sounding as if the did not understand anything anymore. "And you could have killed me, for what I did – but did not. Why?"

Lana shrugged. "Because I'm not you. I still feel remorse sometimes. And we've been through a lot together. Even if you're a pain in the ass at the best of times, and a cold hearted, unscrupulous bastard at the worst, we've been fighting together for a long time. That means something to me, even if it means bugger all to you. So I simply could not kill you. And I even talk to you, as you can see for yourself. Anyway, that is the end of my little story. Hope it was entertaining."

She gave him a lopsided grin and drained her tankard.

He pushed his chair back and staggered to his feet. "I think I need some fresh air", he said, hoarsely. "I... thank you for your honesty. And for what it's worth... I'm sorry. I don't know if I wish I had not met you, if I wish I had not learned all this about me – but I'm sorry for what I did."

She laughed bitterly. "Tell that to the dead. And the ones left behind."

He flinched and turned to leave. Lana watched him go, passing through the taproom to the door outside, his shoulders hunched, head down. Should she feel sorry for him?

Hardly. Even if he felt guilty, if he was tormented by what she had told him, it was only a fraction of what he deserved. But somehow, the image of his haunted eyes kept creeping up in her mind.

She did not feel thirsty anymore. She felt tired. Dragging up all that memories had been hard. The memories of her friends, so many of them dead. And even if she had not spoken of him, it had brought back the still fresh pain of Casavir's death.

_Half a year, my love, and I still miss you so much._

Abruptly, she got up and grabbed her sword and cloak. She would get a room, and go to sleep. Trips down Memory Lane were painful, and exhausting, and not only for Bishop. She would get some rest and hope that everything looked brighter in the morning. It usually didn't, but one could still hope.

xxx

She did not sleep well that night and got up with the first light of the sun. As expected, things did not look much brighter than last evening. She hated the mornings, because when she awoke, she still always reached out for Casavir at her side – only to find the other half of the bed painfully empty. And it came all rushing back.

Gods, she missed him so much in the mornings... the light in his blue eyes, the love shining in them when he kissed her awake, his deep voice, telling her how much he loved her, tenderly whispering sweet nothings into her ear... his strong arms, holding her... yes, the mornings were torment. Even worse than the evenings, when she missed cuddling into his warmth, feeling safe in his arms, snuggled against his strong body...

She hastily shoved the memories away while she washed with the cold water she had poured into a washing bowl. Shivering, she slipped into her clothes, threw her chain shirt over her head, grabbed her things and went downstairs for an early breakfast. If she was lucky, no one else would be up yet.

But when she entered the taproom, she saw Bishop, already sitting in front of an untouched plate with eggs and bread. He looked up at her, and she thought he looked positively ill, his face pallid with deep shadows under his eyes. This time she could not help feeling a little sorry for him.

_If he really does not remember – must be harsh, learning all that about yourself._

The thought made her pause at his table. He said nothing, just looked at her, still that haunted expression in his eyes. In an impulse, she sat down opposite of him.

"Bad night, huh?", she asked.

He looked down at his hands, playing with his fork. "I could not sleep", he said. "Too much on my mind."

Lana sighed. "Maybe I should not have told you. Or not everything."

_And I still have not told you the worst thing you did._

Bishop looked up, quickly. "No. Please, I'm grateful you even talked to me. I find it hard to believe that... that I am as bad as you described, but somehow I don't think you were lying to me. But it will take some time to cope."

His eyes fell to the still untouched plate in front of him, and he pushed it towards her. "If you want to – it's still warm. I have not touched it. I don't think I can eat anything."

"You sure?", she asked. "Starving yourself is hardly the solution."

"I won't starve. But I feel ill this morning. Take it."

She shrugged and started tucking into the eggs.

He watched her in silence. When she was finished, she nodded at him and got up.

"I'll be off then. Don't take it wrong, but I hope we won't meet again. But I do hope you will find some peace."

He got up as well and took his backpack and his weapons, leaning against the wall next to him.

"Thank you", he said, sounding as tired as he looked. "I would ask you if there was someone else I could talk to, but it seems like I can not let my face be seen anywhere near someone who knows you. And I guess I best avoid Neverwinter."

"Very advisable. Visiting Neverwinter could be a hazard to your health."

They left the inn together. Bishop nodded at her one last time, then started down the road to the south.

_My direction as well. I best wait for a bit, I really don't want to walk with him._

She watched him walk down the dirt road, next to the deep rutted tracks the coaches had left over the years. Then she heard the sound of hooves and the rumbling of a carriage, just before it came round the bend, accompanied by maybe a dozen guards.

She drew her brows together. She knew these black uniforms... Luskan! And Bishop just kept going.

_Get off the road – what are you doing?_

Then it hit her.

_I have not told him to be wary of Luskan!_

Because she wanted to avoid the whole Luskan – Redfallow's Watch business.

_Damn!_

She saw Bishop stand aside for the carriage to pass. She saw the first guards walk past him, when suddenly the curtain of the carriage moved, and a sharp voice sounded out: "That man – arrest him!"

_Damn, damn, damn!_

 


	3. Enemies Found

 

 

Lana watched, shocked, as the guards drew their weapons and started surrounding Bishop, who looked confused and tried to retreat from the road.

_Hot damn! What do I do now?_

She really did not want to get involved. That was Bishop, for gods' sake, and he had it coming. And she was not on Luskan's list of most beloved persons, either. So her instinct was to just turn and vanish, and let him reap what he had sown.

_We've been through a lot together. That means something to me, even if it means bugger all to you._

She cursed. Unfortunately, it was true. And just as she could not kill him when he left before the battle with Garius, she could not just stand by and watch him being taken by Luskan. Damn her conscience. It really got into the way.

Besides, if she could kick some Luskan asses while she was at it, that sweetened the deal at least some.

"Cyric's ass!", she swore, threw her hands in the air and concentrated, extending her powers to include Bishop. An otherworldy murmur surrounded her, and suddenly Bishop and she started moving much faster.

His scimitars practically leaped into his hands, and she saw him whirl in a graceful arc, slicing one of the guards open and deflecting the blow of another with his second weapon, while he still maneuvered himself backwards, trying to get one of the trees into his back, trying not to let himself be surrounded.

She could not help feeling admiration at his skill and grace.

_He might have forgotten about his past, but he sure has not forgotten how to fight._

But there were so many, too many guards.

_He can't possibly take them all!_

She concentrated, energy rising around her, making her hair swirl like a sudden breeze. Again, there was the murmur that always accompanied the summonings of her eldritch powers, and tentacles started to rise all around Bishop, gripping the attackers with their icy grasp.

She heard them cry in shock, and some of them turned around.

_Damn – I knew that would get their attention._

She called to her powers again, and a fiery blast jumped from her hands, engulfing the first of the attackers to come in her direction, jumping on to several others, setting them ablaze. She heard their cries of pain and laughed.

"There's more where that came from!", she called to them.

But then her laughter died in her throat when she saw Bishop, pressed on all sides by attackers. They had driven him back, out of the area where the tentacles she called still waved, searching for victims, and even though he still whirled, lashing out with his weapons with inhuman speed, thanks to her incantation, there were too many of them.

"By Mephistopheles' beard!", she cursed.

This did not look well.

_I have to do something!_

She sent out another fiery blast, setting all that got hit aflame. But it would not be enough!

Then she saw a grey blur emerging from the trees, growling and snarling, hurtling itself at one of the attackers, going for the throat.

_Karnwyr!_

Things were looking up. The wolf was a force to be reckoned with, she remembered that very well. Especially the ferocity he defended his master with.

_Probably the only creature on this plane who loves the ranger._

Another blast left her hands, burning the enemy, and some went down with painful moans. Karnwyr's victim had gone down as well, and Bishop's scimitars left more bleeding on the ground. She chuckled. The odds definitely looked better now.

But suddenly, she saw Karnwyr dart back into the forest with a panicked yip that sounded more like a frightened puppy than the fearsome wolf she knew.

_What the...?_

She tried to rise her arms again, but found she could not move. At all. Bishop seemed frozen in mid motion as well, his scimitars raised for a blow that never came. Luckily, the guards did not to move either.

_By all the slimy pits of the abyss! I forgot to watch the coach!_

Stupid, stupid, stupid mistake!

And sure as hells, a woman stepped into her field of view, regarding the frozen scene before her with an expression of utter boredom. She had long, black hair that partly was tied into a knot on the top of her head, partly was allowed to flow freely down her back and over her shoulders. It glittered in the morning sun like raven wings. The robe she wore was also black and shimmering, some expensive material that hugged every line of her curvaceous body, leaving not much to imagination. The bodice was cut so low that it seemed a miracle her breasts did not just jump out of it.

"Do I have to do everything myself?", she said with a sharp, but strangely melodic voice. Her tone was blasé, but somehow it made Lana think of a coiled snake – seemingly relaxed, but always ready to strike. "You are all completely useless." She snapped her fingers, and the guards started moving again. They all fell to their knees in front of the woman. Lana could practically feel the fear coming from them in waves.

_Who the hells is she?_

"Get him into the cage!", the woman ordered, pointing at Bishop who still stood as motionless as Lana herself. "We will call off our hunt for now, we have found a much more precious prey." Without turning, she pointed her thumb at Lana. "And her as well. It seems my little one found a girlfriend. Take her."

Lana watched in helpless fury as some of the guards picked up Bishop and carried him behind the coach. The others came over to her, picking her up just as unceremoniously and dragged her away.

She seethed inside, wanting to curse and to yell, itching to fry them with her hellish fire, but she still was not able to move even a finger. It only served to enrage her even more, and she fought against the paralysation that gripped her limbs with all her will, but to no avail.

The guards dragged her by the woman in the black robe, and she ordered them to stop, taking a step in front of Lana, regarding her with an amused languor that made Lana want to spit into her face.

She had to admit the woman was breathtakingly beautiful, seeing her close, but there was a malice that glittered in those exotic black eyes that somehow destroyed all allure she might hold. Her straight nose was adorned by a tiny black diamond stud, twinkling at its side, and her full, red lips were parted in a mocking smile, revealing small, sharp, white teeth.

"Let's have a look at you", the woman smiled, her tone reminding Lana of a purring cat. She reached out with her hand, her blood red nails filed into sharp points, and gripped Lana's chin, raising her face to hers. Lana's skin seemed to crawl at her touch, and she could not repress a shudder, wanting to draw back, but still not able to move. "Now, aren't you a treat? Look at those green cat's eyes, that triangular face, those delicate lips. Such a pretty little kitten."

She looked into Lana's eyes, seeing the fury burn in them, and laughed delightedly. The sound sent goose bumps down Lana's back. "And it seems that fiery hair of yours is a token of your temper. My, aren't we going to have fun together?"

Then the smile vanished from her face as if wiped away, while she took a step back. "Get her into the cage and let's get going", she ordered, coldly. "I want to arrive sometime today." With that, she turned and stepped into the coach gracefully, one of her guards closing the door behind her.

The others dragged Lana behind the coach, where indeed a cage was fitted to its end. It was roomy for one person, but a tight fit for two, and Bishop was already in there, still frozen, unmoving. The guards pushed her in without further ado, and squeezed the door closed behind her, pushing the bolt that held it closed. The moment the bolt was in place, Lana could hear the bars of the cage hum with magical energy.

_Escaping from here won't be easy._

_Blast, curse and damn!_

The coach lurched into motion and rumbled slowly along the rutted track, the remaining guards falling in step beside it. No one spared even a glance for the ones left behind, fallen, wounded or dying.

Without being able to move or to hold on to something, Lana was thoroughly thrown about in the cage. She found herself hurtled against Bishop more than once, and often connected painfully with the bars of the cage. Whatever magic infused them, at least nothing zapped through her when she touched the bars. As the minutes passed, she felt her fury rise with every jolt that sent her hurtling through the cage.

Then, after seemingly hours, the magical hold on her vanished from one second to the other, and she could move again. She took a deep breath.

"Burning, blazing, blasted _hells_!", she yelled, violently kicking the back of the coach through the bars of the cage, needing to vent her fury somehow. "I'll make you regret that, you hear me, you bitch? I'll send your ugly ass down to the nine hells, where it belongs!"

The sound of a delighted laughter pearling out of the coach made her shut up, hugging her arms around her knees, scowling at the backside of the coach. She had to admit her threats lacked a certain... well, _threat_ in her current situation. The thought did not help to soften her anger. So she sat, seething in silence with helpless fury, throwing brooding glances at Bishop, who just sat with his back to the bars, his eyes closed.

_How can he be so calm?_

"Say something!", she growled. "Who is that hussy?"

He opened one eye, looking at her, his lips curled into the slightest of ironic smiles. "Actually, I hoped you would be able to tell me that. After you were done with the ranting and sulking."

She bared her teeth at him, and it had nothing to do with a smile. "I really do need to find something to vent my anger on. I suggest you do not volunteer, wolf boy!"

He shrugged and closed his eyes again. " _I_ would suggest to start thinking about how to get out of this mess, but if you prefer to waste time with throwing a fit, feel free."

"Why, you...", she hissed, then interrupted herself. He was right. Bishop was right! Bishop being the calm, level headed one... when did she fall asleep and wake up in a mirror world?

She clenched her teeth, trying to repress her fury. "All right", she gritted. "What do you propose, wiseass?

"I _propose_ you move a little nearer", he murmured, shifting to the middle of the cage, with a meaningful glance at the guards still surrounding the coach. None of them seemed to pay them any attention. That did not mean they could not hear what they were saying.

Hells, he really was being the reasonable one, was he? What was the world coming to? She felt a stab of sadness. It was true, she never had been much of a thinker, a planner. Her temper always got in the way. It had been Casavir to balance her out, to ground her, to be the voice of reason.

But Casavir was gone.

And now Bishop of all persons took over that role? Had to be some sort of cosmic joke at her expense.

But the thought of Casavir had done much to douse her anger. She silently skidded over to Bishop, moving as close as she could.

"So, what do we do?", she asked softly.

He turned his head to whisper into her ear. "I have a dagger left in my boot they did not find. But from here I can't do anything with it. If we could open the cage, or get them to open it... we could try our luck."

His lips grazed her ear and she had to pull herself together not to move away. Instead, she turned her mouth to his ear, but took care not to touch it. "The cage is obviously magically locked. I can try to _devour_ that magic. Then you jump out, attack with your dagger, and I burn them to crisp. How about that for a plan?"

She had never been this close to him. She could smell him now, an earthy smell that made her think of moss and leaves and campfires. Suddenly she wanted to increase the distance between them very much. This was just too close for comfort.

_Stay focussed._

He brought his mouth to her ear again. "Not good. I would go for it, but not with that woman in the coach. I don't know who she is, but she is dangerous. If you can open that cage, I say we just try to make a run for the woods, fight only if we have to."

Lana wanted to tell him how much she would love to see that bitch burn with her fire, but reason told her that he was right once more, that they probably just would end up in that cage again, if they confronted the harlot. She clenched her teeth and nodded.

"Fine", she gritted. "We run."

"Good", he breathed. "Then try to break the magic, or whatever it is you do. If you succeed, get out of this cage and run. I'll follow. You just run, you hear? Don't turn around, don't look for me."

Lana turned her head to look into his eyes, his face very close to hers. Something of her astonishment must have shown on her face, because he asked:

"What? Did I say something wrong?"

She shook her head. "No, just something very unexpected."

He frowned, but did not ask further.

She really never had seen him put the safety of someone else before his own. And exactly that was why she could not do as he said, could not just run and leave him behind if they got him.

Ruddy conscience really got into the way.

But she did not tell him that, because she knew he would have argued. So she just asked: "Ready?"

He nodded. Lana closed her eyes and started gathering her forces around her.

 


	4. Home, Sweet Home

Lana closed her eyes and started gathering her forces around her. Or tried to.

Nothing happened.

_What...?_

She concentrated again, so hard sweat started to form little beads on her forehead.

Still nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"What the friggin' hells!", she yelled

"Calm down!", Bishop said sharply. "What's the matter?"

"It's not working", she snapped. "That's the matter! I can't do a cursed thing!"

"The cage is surrounded by a field that prevents you from using magic", one of the guards said. "You better stop it. You don't want to anger the mistress."

Lana narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh yeah? Well, you tell your mistress she can..."

A hand on her arm stopped her. She turned and looked at Bishop, who just silently shook his head.

"Let go, wolf boy", she hissed.

He retracted his hand, but said: "Get a grip!"

She glowered at him, then reversed her attention to the guard. "Who is she?", Lana demanded. "Tell me her name!"

The man only gave her a horrified glance, looked at Bishop and hurried away to the front of the coach, without answering her. Seething, she let herself sink against the thrumming bars, angrily chewing her nails.

Bishop sat back in silence, watching her with a neutral expression on his face. She regarded him with rising frustration and had just opened her mouth to snap at him when the coach lurched to a halt, throwing them both off balance. She found herself on the floor of the cage, with Bishop's weight on her.

She shoved at him impatiently and hissed: "Get off!", when she heard the amused voice of the woman say: "My, aren't you two snug together."

Lana felt Bishop lift himself and retreat into his corner of the cage. Now she had an unobstructed view of the woman's face, the red lips curled into a poisonous smile. Somehow Lana expected a forked tongue darting out of her mouth.

"You insolent, craven strumpet! Let us out here at once, and I'll show you how _snug_ I feel!"

The woman laughed again. "And such a foul little mouth she has. Does she make good use of it, my little one?"

Lana gasped in fury. "Why, you wretched, venomous..."

"Lana.", Bishop's calm voice cut in.

Lana threw him a deathly glare, but stopped ranting. He was right, she was not accomplishing anything besides making a fool of herself. The thought infuriated her even more, but she clenched her teeth and held her tongue.

The amused glance of the woman shifted from her to Bishop. "Such restraint, my little one. Quite unlike you."

 _Amen to that_ , Lana thought, fuming.

Bishop just regarded the woman wordlessly. She narrowed her eyes a bit, and Lana thought she was not happy with his calmness.

_Maybe I should follow his lead, this seems to piss her off more than me yelling at her._

"We'll see about that composure of yours when we're home, little one", the woman said silkily. "For now, it's bedtime for you children." She murmured some words under her breath, and suddenly everything went pitch black.

"No need for you two to know how to find my home", she said. "And in case you wonder, we can see you just fine, so try not to do something _unseemly_." She laughed, and Lana heard the door of the coach close, shortly before it lurched into motion again. This time she was prepared and held on to the bars, so she was not thrown about again.

"Bishop, tell me...", she began furiously.

She stopped as she heard him move, and then his voice came right next to her, very low: "No, not now. They're listening. We'll talk later."

She heard him move again, back into the other corner of the cage.

_Damn him!_

Why did he always have to be right?

xxx

Lana spent the next hours in silence, brooding in the darkness of her corner of the cage. Who the hells was that harlot?

_Hosttower mage._

That much seemed sure. High ranking one, too, if one was to go by the amount of fear she caused in her guards. And the effortless way she had subdued Lana as well as Bishop. Without even breaking a sweat.

_The harpy!_

She sat, her anger simmering silently, while the coach lurched worse and worse. Obviously, they had left the main road and were jolting along a much rougher track. After a while, she had the feeling that every tooth in her mouth was shaken loose.

_I'll make her pay for this. Somehow!_

After an eternity, the coach stopped. Lana was so sore that she hardly found the energy to be angry anymore. She heard footsteps approaching, and the darkness lifted at long last. She blinked, trying to get accustomed to the light, and noticed that first, she was deep in the woods, and second, the sun was already setting.

 _How long has she been dragging us along that track from hell?_ _At least she's got to be nearly as sore as I am, even if she was_ in _the coach._

But the sweet, poisonous smile on the woman's face betrayed no tiredness.

"Welcome home, children", she purred. "I jumped ahead to prepare everything for your arrival. That last few hours of the road are just a little too rough for my taste."

Lana stared at her, murder on her mind.

_I'll kill her. I swear I will._

The woman noticed Lana's glare, and her smile broadened.

"Ah, such a fiery temper. Taming you will be nearly as much fun as it was with my little one over there."

Lana swallowed.

 _She thinks she tamed Bishop?_ Tamed _him?_

She thought back to the kind of man he'd been. Cold, unemotional, merciless, with a mean, vicious streak and a penchant for shedding blood. And under that cold, emotionless surface a cesspit of boiling hate and fury.

Tame?

For the first time, she felt fear rise in her. Luckily for her, the woman had turned to the guards, so she could not see the expression on Lana's face.

"Carry them inside, into my study." She waved behind her with a careless gesture, and again Lana felt the paralysis grab hold of her limbs, spreading until she could do nothing but blink. A snap of the woman's fingers, and the thrumming of the cage bars stopped. Without looking back, she vanished from Lana's field of view.

She heard the bolt being pulled back and the door of the cage opened. Hands gripped her and pulled her out of the door, catching her before she hit the ground. Then she was carried some yards, and the front of an impressive and elegant, if sturdy mansion appeared.

She was carried through the massive front door that opened into a gloomy stairwell that reminded more of a castle than a mansion, with torches burning at the raw, unadorned stone walls. They dragged her up the broad stairs onto the second floor, along a no less gloomy corridor, through a second door into a large, rectangular room that contained uncounted bookcases, workbenches covered with alchemical instruments, a desk, a niche with a large four-poster bed in it – and a cell in the back wall.

It was the latter the guards dumped her in, then they turned around and left. The last one threw her a glance over his shoulder. She recognised the one she had spoken to on the way – if one could call it that. She saw fear in his eyes.

"Please", he whispered. "Don't make her angry. You really don't want her angry with you."

With that, he hurried out of the room, after the others. Only seconds later, the other group of guards entered, dragging Bishop along with them, throwing him into the cell after her. Then they closed the door and the bolt, and the same thrumming as in the cage on the coach went through the bars.

_How will we ever get out of here?_

She felt discouragement creep up in her, and she hated the feeling. As always, she countered it with anger. She would find some way to kick that hussy's ass, and if it was the last thing she did in her life!

As if on cue, said hussy entered the room, stalking the cage, her hips swinging.

"Make yourself at home, children", she smiled. "Do you like your new room? Isn't it so much more comfy than the old one?" She snapped her fingers, and Lana found she could move again.

She drew herself up into a sitting position. Next to her, Bishop did the same. Lana glared up at the woman, but clenched her teeth, saying nothing.

"Now, now", the woman said, soothingly. "You don't have to thank me at once. I think I'll go and have my dinner now. But I promise to be back later, so we can play some. Until then, have fun without me." She turned, wiggled her fingers at them over her shoulder in a mocking wave and left, closing the door behind her.

"That bitch!", Lana snarled, whirling round to face Bishop. "Who the hells does she _think_ she is?"

"I guess she _thinks_ she's the one who can knock the two of us out with a snap of her fingers. For some reasons, she seems to believe that puts her in charge. I wonder why that is?"

"Don't go all smart ass on me, wolf boy!"

"Then stop throwing useless temper tantrums! We're alone for the first time since they caught us. I would prefer to spend the time talking about our options, but if you want to rant some, feel free."

_Argh! How she hated the man!_

"When exactly did you become Mr. Sensible?", she growled.

"Well, someone has to be, and you don't seem up to the job."

She eyed him with misgivings. "I hope you are aware that I dislike you immensely", she said.

"Duly noted. Now, can we get back to business?"

"Gods, I'm not sure if I did not like you better before you lost your bleeding memory. You might have been a bastard, but at least you knew how to throw a fit."

"Do you always have such a short fuse? I wonder how you manage a Keep with a temper like that."

She sighed, her anger suddenly dissipating. "Honestly, I suck at the job", she admitted, raking her fingers through her red locks. "I simply can't do it, not without...", she swallowed, and left the sentence unfinished. "Anyway, that's why I'm here in the first place. I kind of left."

He stared at her. "You mean, you just up and left?"

"Yes", she said, sullenly.

"It's called running away, you know?"

"And? What if it is?", she asked defiantly. "Don't go all moral on me – you being the one telling me _twice_ I was a fool not to just leave all of them to their fate, offering to run off into the woods with me! The King of Shadows is defeated, and I decided my role was over. Besides, it was eating up my life! Never a moment alone. Always duty, duty, duty. Duty, and paperwork. Loads and loads of paperwork! It drove me insane. That, and...", her voice trailed off.

"...and what?", he asked, softly.

She averted her face. "Nothing." She hated herself for the way her voice shook.

_I miss you so much, my love._ _Couldn't bear the memories in that place._

"Fair enough. I won't ask", he said. Then, after a pause: "Did I really try to run off with you?"

She wiped the tears out of her eyes. "Yeah, well, I did not get my hopes up. You came on to every woman that got into a ten yard radius around you. And in your own special charming way, too."

He shook his head. "Somehow, I think you were not really tempted by that offer."

She had to smile a bit. "Not really."

He sighed. "I apologise for judging you, ok? I had no right to do that. If you really risked your life against that King of Shadows, you have given enough to last a lifetime. You are entitled to a bit of happiness. So you had every right to leave."

Bitterness rose in her, along with more tears.

_Happiness?_

She felt his finger on her cheek and turned her head. He had gathered one tear trailing down her face, and was regarding her with a soft expression, sorrow in his eyes.

"I'm sorry – did I say something wrong?", he asked.

She just stared at him.

"What?", he asked, obviously starting to feel uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

She shook her head. "This is just uncanny. Either you are the world's best actor, or you've become a completely new person, quite the opposite of the old one. I guess that will take some time to get used to."

"It's no act", he said, quietly.

She stared at him some moments more. "I believe you", she said eventually. "So, let's talk shop. Do you have any idea who that vixen is?"

He shook his head. "Unfortunately, no."

"She seems to know you pretty well – and I did not like some of the things she said."

He shivered. "Believe me, me neither. I wonder what she wants with me."

"Must be an old acquaintance of your time in Luskan", she mused. "Luckily she did not kill you outright."

His gaze was suddenly intent on her. "Come again?", he asked.

She looked at him, guiltily. "Well... you kind of have a history with Luskan."

"I see", he said. "And you forgot to tell me that because...?"

She threw her hands in the air, angry again, if mostly out of guilt. "Gods, Bishop, if I told you about every enemy you ever made, we'd be still sitting in that inn. Which would actually be better than sitting here, so forget I said that. Anyway, you used to work for Luskan, and you obviously did not part in good graces. So they're kind of looking for you. But you never told me about any _special friends_ , so I have no idea who our friendly black viper might be. I'm fairly sure she is a Hosttower mage, but my guess is as good as yours."

"Anything else I should know about?"

"No", she said, forcing herself to hold his gaze.

_Well, and he shouldn't know about Redfallow's Watch. At least, not now._

"Hosttower Mage", he said, his brows drawn together. "I wonder what dealings I had with her."

"She seemed awfully happy to see you", Lana said.

He shivered again. "I noticed that, too."

Just as Lana drew breath to answer him, the door to the room opened, and the woman entered, a catlike smile on her face.

"Now, my children, it's playtime", she purred.


	5. Fun and Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lady in black comes to play, and her identity is revealed. This chapter might be a little... creepy. It's her fault though, I swear!
> 
> In case someone is still reading Neverwinter Nights fiction, I mucked up with the chapters - I actually forgot to post chapter 3! o.O
> 
> But now everything should be up and in the correct order. I hope :)

 

 

 

Lana watched with foreboding as the woman stalked to the cage, a smile on her face Lana did not like at all.

She murmured some words again, and for the third time today, Lana's limbs went lifeless.

_This is really starting to grate on my nerves!_

"Come in, boys", the woman called with her strangely melodic voice. "And bring my toys with you."

Two guards entered the room, carrying an assortment of chains and metal rings between them.

"Put them down on that table", she said, pointing. Then she went over, regarding the chains thoughtfully. "Now, which ones do I select...? I think I'd like you to be able to move a bit, this time. So, just the neck ring... and a long chain." She took two items from the pile, the chains rattling as she pulled them out.

"Take him out of the cell, to the rings, boys", she said, snapping her fingers at the cage, and the magical humming of the bars ceased. The guards opened the door, dragging the immobilised Bishop outside and to the wall to the left.

"Yes, perfect", she purred, as she went over and fastened something around Bishop's neck. "Now, put him against the wall. Yes, like that." She drew the chain through a ring fastened into the wall at shoulder height with a rattling sound. Then she bent down and fastened the end of the chain somewhere at the floor.

"You can go now, boys, I won't need you anymore."

Without another glance, the guards left the room. The woman came over to the cage, grinning maliciously at Lana while she closed the door of the cell again. The magic humming was back.

"I'm going to have a bit of fun with our boy", she said, silkily. "I'm sure you don't mind sharing, do you? Because, you know, he's been mine for so much longer than you can even know him." She snapped her fingers once more, and suddenly Lana could move again.

She sat up, fury burning in her. "You miserable, poisonous viper! Stop that game immediately, or I'll..."

"Silence!" the woman shrieked, pointing her finger at Lana, and suddenly Lana could not hear her own voice. "You will call me mistress, if you call me anything, understand?"

She turned around and slowly moved back to Bishop, a small, cruel smile on her face.

"Now, my little one, we're going to have some fun. Remember old times?" She ran her hand down his cheek.

"I'm not yours", he said.

She retracted her hand and hit him so fast Lana could barely see the movement. But his head jerked back, and she could see the red welts the woman's sharp nails had left behind, and the drops of red blood running down from them.

"I disagree", she said, softly. "You've been mine since I first saw you on the street and knew you for the delicious treat that you were."

Lana could only watch in silent fury as the woman stepped even closer to Bishop, her tongue darting out, slowly drawing a trail from his collarbone, over his neck, and then, going up on her toes, up to his cheek, taking the drops of his blood on the tip, tasting them like they were some delicacy. To Lana's surprise, the tongue was not forked, but small, pink, and dainty.

She saw Bishop shudder and try to draw back, as far as the chain allowed. The woman laughed, delightedly, and licked another drop of blood from his cheek.

"Your blood always tasted so delicious", she said. "It tastes of..." Her eyes narrowed and snapped to Bishop's face. "Actually, it tastes of sorrow, and sadness... and regret?" She spat out. "What is this?"

She turned around, marching to the cell, hands on her hips. "Is that your work? Did you do that to him? Did you destroy the exquisite creature he was?"

Lana just glared at her.

"Oh yes, you can't answer me, can you, poor dear? But don't worry, I'll find out, and if I find this is your fault..."

"She's got nothing to do with it", Bishop's voice interrupted.

"Why, my little one, turning all protective of the kitten?"

"No", he said in a level tone. "It's just the truth. I've never even touched her."

_How the hells can he stay so calm, the way that whore treats him?_

Lana was so furious, she only wanted to hurl herself at the bitch and claw those malicious black eyes out of the smiling face. It took all her self control not to throw herself at the bars, rattling them in helpless rage.

But there he stood, iron ring round his neck, chained to the wall, red welts on his face where the woman's nails had cut him, and regarded her calmly.

The woman laughed, rapturous. "You mean she's not your lover? Oh, kitten, you've missed a treat. He knows how to make a woman scream, believe me." She made a face. "Or knew, at least. I'm not sure anymore."

She went over to Bishop again, sniffing the air around him. "Yes, I smell it now. Sorrow, and regret. Where's all that bottled up fury gone? All that delicious hate? The simmering rage, the thirst for blood?" She sniffed again. "It's not here anymore! Why?" She sounded devastated.

_She must be raving mad!_

Lana stared in disbelief, as the woman turned around again, addressing her.

"He used to hate me with such a passion, you know", she said, in a low voice, as if confiding into a friend, the memories bringing a rapt smile onto her face. "You should have seen the bite marks and bruises he always left behind."

She shivered happily with the memories. "He was such a vicious, violent creature. I could sense that in him right away, so I had him picked up and brought to me. He hated that I forced him, and he hated me because I could. Because I could even make him enjoy it. It made him yet more brutal."

She smiled again, that rapt smile. It made Lana feel sick.

_That woman is completely off her rockers!_

"He was my favourite toy", she continued, still in that low, intimate tone. "I have a lot of playthings, but none so delectably vicious. I had so much fun with him. But then he ran away."

She turned to Bishop again, who still stared at her wordlessly, his jaw clenched.

"Why did you run away, little one? Now I'm going to have to punish you."

She strode over to him, slapping his face. "Answer me! Why did you run away? Was it because of that patrol you slaughtered? Silly boy. You should have come to me. I would have protected you. What are a couple of pawns, if you gain the bishop instead?"

_She genuinely wonders why he ran?_

Fear began to settle in earnest in Lana's stomach. They were at the mercy of a powerful Luskan Hosttower mage. A powerful Luskan Hosttower mage who was more than one sandwich short of a picnic.

Bishop turned his head back after her slap had make it snap around and stared into the woman's eyes.

"I don't know", he said.

"Don't play games with me, little one. You know what I will do to you if you try that."

"No", he said.

"What do you mean, no? Don't anger me."

"I mean, no, I don't know what you will do. I don't remember. Anything."

Her eyes narrowed, and she sniffed again. "You smell like you tell the truth. How can that be?"

He shrugged. "As I said, I don't remember anything. Anything beyond the last six months."

Lana frowned.

_Hold on, six months...?_

But the woman had started talking again. "So you're telling me you don't remember me at all?"

He nodded. "That's what I'm saying."

She threw her head back, laughing, thrilled. "Now, isn't that wonderful, my little one? You can discover all the delights we shared anew."

Lana could see Bishop shiver. He did not look happy about the prospect.

"But where are my manners?", she continued. "I should at least introduce myself, if you don't remember. My name is Jaluth. You may call me mistress."

The fear in Lana's stomach solidified into one hard, tight, icy ball. She recognised that name.

_Jaluth Alaerth, dreaded Overwizard of the North._

_Oh boy, are we in deep shit._

"And now, it's play time, little one."

The woman crushed her lips to his, pressing herself against his body. Bishop seemed to try to melt into the wall, flattening himself against it as far as he could go. Jaluth drew back, her eyes narrowed in anger.

"You're no fun", she said, her voice cracking like a whip. "The old you would have bitten my lip, made me bleed. There's no fight in you, no rage, nothing for me to play with." She slapped his face again, hard this time. "Get angry already!"

But he just stared at her, blood dripping from a split lip. She sighed in frustration, starting to pace.

"I don't like this", she said, matter-of-factly. "I want the old Bishop back. What happened? How did you lose your memories?"

He still stared at her. "I don't know", he said. "I don't remember."

She whipped around, facing him. "Of course not! Hold still!" She reached out with her hands, and he flinched, but she ignored it, putting her fingertips on his forehead, closing her eyes, murmuring softly. Then she slowly slid her fingers backwards, through his short, mahogany hair, over his head and down to his neck, then forwards again, over his temples, touching his skull everywhere.

Lana saw Bishop screw his eyes closed, his hands balled into tight fists, still pressed back against the wall.

Then Jaluth started to smile, delighted. "Oh yes, got you now, you sly bastard.", she said, under her breath, still concentrating. Finally she giggled, a sound raising goose bumps on Lana's skin, and stepped back.

"I sense the touch of our dear friend Garius on you, little one", she said. "It seems he was less than happy with you."

_Six months! The fight with Garius! Of course!_

"What did he do to me?", Bishop asked, sharply.

"Ah", she purred. "You remember Garius then, little one, but not me? That's poor taste of you."

Bishop's eyes involuntarily went to Lana.

Jaluth followed his gaze. "So the kitten told you about him? The kitten knows Garius." She smiled at Lana, like a cat would smile at a mouse. "And I _did_ notice that the kitten strongly resembles the description of a certain Neverwinter Knight Captain, hmmm? One in whose company you reportedly were to be found, before you betrayed her, as you are wont to do. Did no one warn you about my little one, kitten? His favours can be a little... fickle, if you don't know how to control him. But still you tried to protect him from me. Has he won your heart, kitty? Be careful, he'll break it. He might be a prize, but he's not one to let himself be bound to one woman."

She leaned into Bishop again, licking the blood from his lip. He shivered, and she giggled again.

"And now, kitten, the little one and me are going to find out if there is something left of that delicious creature I knew." She bent down, releasing the end of the chain from the bracket at the floor.

As soon as the chain was loose and he could move, Bishop's hand darted down into his boot, coming back out, holding a wicked looking dagger with a flamed blade. He lashed out with it, catching Jaluth by surprise, cutting her throat with one deep slash.

She made a small noise, her hands going to her throat, blood welling up between her fingers, her eyes wide. Bishop carefully stepped sideways and retreated some steps, his eyes never leaving her, gripping the dagger, his breath going fast.

A wide, catlike smile showed on her face, and she lowered her hands. Bishop gasped in shock as he saw her throat, pristine, untouched, unhurt, if bloody.

"Ah, it seems there still is something of my favourite toy left in you", she purred. "You always liked to cut on me, even though you knew you could not hurt me with your little knifes. But it seemed to vent some of that anger in you. And I always made you lick up the blood you spilled. Want to lick up the blood now, little one?"

Bishop retreated step by step, as she followed him, shaking his head frantically.

"Oh, but you will, little one, you will lick it up. All of it. And I shall cut on you some, as well, since you are being such a naughty boy." She extended her hand, and Lana could feel the magic like something solid as it slammed into Bishop.

He screamed in pain and dropped to his knees.

"Get over to the bed, Bishop, or I will have to punish you even more. As for you..." she turned to Lana, "...why don't you go to sleep." With these words, she took something from a little pouch on her robe and threw it at Lana.

Sand showered around her, and everything went dark.

 


	6. French Leave

Lana woke when something fell on her. Something heavy.

As she opened her eyes she heard the door of the cell close and the bars start to hum again. Bishop – for it was him, thrown over her – gathered himself up into a sitting position and slid against the back wall, as far away from the door as he could get.

Jaluth was standing in front of the cage, delicately nibbling on one of her nails, regarding Bishop thoughtfully.

"I have to say, I'm not entirely happy with your performance today, my little one", she said. "We'll have to work on that. Let's see if we can't get you to hate me properly again. For now, sleep, children. Good night, sweet dreams." She blew them a kiss, turned and sashayed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Lana glanced at Bishop. He was sitting against the wall, his arms around his knees, face buried in his arms. His shirt was untucked and had ridden up on his back, showing an expanse of bare, tanned skin – and a multitude of scratches, cuts and even burns. The cuts were obviously done with some sort of knife.

Lana hissed in horror as her gaze travelled upwards and she found more scratches and cuts, mingled with a liberal amount of bite marks, on his neck, trailing down into the collar of the shirt. Some of the bites looked as if they had bled. There was hardly an inch of unmarked skin to see.

She skidded over to him, reaching out, but then stopped, her hand hovering uncertainly over his mangled skin, not knowing where to touch him. At last, she settled for gently running her fingers through his hair.

He flinched under her touch, but did not look up.

"Oh gods, Bishop", she said softly, feeling more sorry for him than she had ever thought it possible. "Are you all right?"

_She used to do that to him in the past – for quite a long time, it seems. How did he survive that?_

_It's a wonder he did not go completely insane._

She knew she should feel anger, but the horror was just too immense. The only thing she could feel were two things she thought she would never feel towards the ranger.

Pity.

And tenderness.

She realised she wanted to hold him close and comfort him like a child. No one deserved what that monster had done to him. No one, not even him.

"Are you all right?", she asked again when he did not react, continuing to softly stroke his hair.

He looked up at last, the expression on his face making her flinch. She'd never seen so much desperation, hopelessness and horror on a person's face. His eyes were ringed with deep shadows and had the expression of a hunted deer. But at least his face seemed unmarked.

"No", he said, hoarsely. "I'm not all right."

_He won't be able to stand this. The old Bishop might have survived her attentions – but this one won't._

She wrapped her arms around him. "I'm so sorry", she whispered.

He winced when she touched him, and she wanted to draw back, because it had to hurt, but his arms went around her waist. He half turned, letting himself sink sideways to the floor, drawing her with him, drawing her close, so that they ended up lying face to face, her arms around his shoulders.

He buried his face in her neck and started to shiver. She stroked his hair for some minutes, and he just continued to shiver, clinging to her, not moving.

"Shhhh", she murmured. "It's gonna be all right".

One of the stupid things one said, trying to give comfort where there was none.

"No", he said into her neck, his voice shaking, not looking up. "It won't"

She did not know what to say to that, so she just held him, stroking his hair.

After some moments he added, his face still buried in her skin: "She was right, you know? She could make me enjoy it. Some of it, at least. She really knows how to touch a man's body to make it... function."

The shivering increased, and she felt his whole body tense and shudder. "Gods, I feel so _dirty_ ", he whispered, his hands clenching around her waist.

Lana drew back a bit, taking his chin into her hand, lifting his face to hers. There were no tears in his eyes, but they seemed huge and lost in his unusually pale face.

"Don't you blame this on yourself", she said, firmly. "She's a viper that has lots of practice with that kind of thing. And she knows you very well. No wonder she knows how to... touch you." She felt him shudder again. "But that does not make you the sick one, you hear? It's her, not you, who's screwed." She softly touched his face. "You're not the dirty one", she repeated.

He stared at her, wordlessly. Then he slowly bent forwards, closing his eyes, and she felt his lips on hers in a soft kiss. She was too surprised to draw back, and somehow, it even felt right. Before she knew it, her eyes closed and she found herself returning the tender kiss, stroking the soft skin of his neck. He sighed and drew her closer to him, his hand tangling in her long red hair.

Then suddenly his mouth was gone from hers, and he sat up, bringing some distance between them.

"I'm sorry", he said, hoarsely, rubbing his eyes with a tired gesture. "I had no right to do that. I don't know what... I guess I just had to feel something normal, something _sane_. I'm sorry."

She sat up, too, feeling cold suddenly, with his warmth gone.

"It's all right", she said, tonelessly. "It's just human. We both needed some comfort, I guess."

She felt guilt burn in her stomach like acid. Felt like she had cheated on Casavir.

_I'm so sorry, my love, so sorry. I don't know how that happened._

But she could not lose herself to guilt. Not now. They had to find a way to get out of here. And for that, she needed Bishop's help.

_Let's see how much damage she's done first._

She slid over to him. "Let me see", she said, trying to lift his shirt.

"No!", he said, forcibly, grabbing her hand.

She looked into his eyes. "Let me see", she repeated, firmly.

He let go of her hand, leaning back to the wall, averting his eyes. Lana carefully lifted the shirt, laying bare his stomach, his chest. She gasped. If she had thought his back and neck were bad, his front was a mess. A bloody mess. And as far as she could tell, the mess continued beyond the top of his breeches.

"Oh gods, Bishop", she said again, horrified.

"When I could not... would not... she got angry", he said, starting to shiver again.

"I can see that", she whispered, still staring at his chest, not able to look away.

"I... I can't do that again", Bishop said, his voice shaking. "I can't let her touch me again. I'll go crazy. If she... if she tries to do that again, I'll take one of her knifes and slit my own throat, since I can't hurt her. I'd rather die than go through that a second time."

He looked at her, and she stared back at him in horror. "I'm sorry to leave you alone in this", he continued, his voice still low and shaking. "But you have no idea. I don't know how I put up with it in the past, but now... I can't. I can't." His voice broke with a sob at last.

She let go of his shirt, grabbing his chin instead, rising his face to hers. "Stop it!", she said. "You're going to do nothing of the sort. We're going to get away, you hear? So no giving up! You never give up. And you always survive! That's just who you are."

"What do _you_ know?", he hissed. "You think this is bad?" He gestured at his chest. "That's _nothing_! The bad part...", he swallowed, the anger vanishing from his voice. "...the bad part is what she made me do to _her_." He closed his eyes, shuddering. "And I _wanted_ to do it. I _enjoyed_ hurting her." He opened his eyes again, staring into Lana's face. "I guess I am sick after all."

She stared back at him, no knowing what to say.

_Get over it, you've always enjoyed hurting people?_

Somehow, she thought that was not going to cheer him up.

_Who'd have thought I'd ever miss the old Bishop? She would not have been able to break_ him, _that's for sure._

She was saved from having to say anything by the sound of an opening door. She whirled around, seeing Jaluth enter, the usual poisonous smile on her face.

Lana felt fury rise, hot and sickening. She hissed through her teeth, seething with anger, her eyes narrowing to slits. How she would have _loved_ to burn that gloating smile away!

Jaluth laughed into Lana's furious face. "What, you do not like what I did with our boy? Don't fret, I left enough for you to have some fun with." She paused, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "Oh, I forgot, you don't have fun with him." She shrugged, the glittering smile back. "Your loss, kitty. Leaves more for me."

She turned and put some parchments onto the desk. "We might need those tomorrow, my little one. I have special plans for you. Let's see if we can't bring you back. For now, sleep – you'll need the rest."

With that, she left the room, closing the door with an audible click.

"Orcus' hooves!", Lana swore, giving the bars of the cage a violent kick, then yelped at the pain in her toes, cursing some more.

_Get a grip! We need to get out of here!_

Still fuming inside, she turned back to Bishop, who had hugged his knees again, burying his face in his arms. She knelt down beside him, grabbing his hair, pulling his head up.

"Pull yourself together! You can do it, I know that. Somewhere, there has to be something of the callous bastard you were left in you! Try to find him, we need him now!"

He smiled weakly. But it was a smile.

"What, you want the monster back?"

She returned his smile, softening her grip on his hair. "At the moment – yes. All he'd be thinking about would be how to break every bone in that hussy's body. Which, incidentally, is what's on my mind as well. So I think right now, we would get along just fine."

He shook his head. "I don't think he lives here anymore. But I'll try my best to replace him."

She let go of his hair, stroking his cheek briefly. "Good boy. Now, I recognised her name, but that does not help, I fear. She's Jaluth Alearth, one of the Hosttower Overwizards. As far as I know, even the other Overwizards fear her. You sure had illustrious friends back in your time, wolf boy."

He ran his fingers through his hair tiredly. "Seems like it." He paused, then added, his voice low: "When she... ran her fingers over my head... searching my brain... it sparked something. A memory."

" _What?_ A memory? What is it?"

He shook his head. "Don't get excited. It's not going to help. But I remembered... a voice. A voice in my head. I was leaving some... tunnels, I think. I remember being glad to be outside again, glad to be... away, free again... don't know from what, honestly... and then there was this voice in my head. A man's voice. Said something like: You think I'd trust a betrayer? I have a surprise for you, Bishop. If I die, so does your mind. If you want it back, you'll have to bring _me_ back. You'll remember this eventually. But nothing else, before you do what I bound you to. And then he laughed in my head, and I turned to run back, back into the tunnels, to prevent him from dying, but that must have been when it happened. Because my first real memory is me, standing in front of a tunnel, not knowing how I got there, not knowing who I was."

He paused. "So I guess, now we know how I lost my memory, huh? Not that it improves the situation, but I thought I'd tell you."

"Garius", Lana said, slowly. "He must have put some sort of Geas on you. You either bring him back to life, or your memory will be lost forever."

He laughed with desperation. "Garius? The guy I betrayed you to, before I betrayed him as well? Bring him back? Just swell."

"Well", she said grimly, "we'll worry about that later. First, we will have to get out of here."

_I did really not like what she said about having special plans for tomorrow._

But she did not say that out loud, afraid that he might lose that bit of spirit again.

He curled his lips in a mocking smile that brought back memories of his old self. "Nice roar, lion. Any plans, or just words?"

She glared at him. "You're not being helpful!"

He opened his mouth to answer her, but in that moment, the door opened again, softly.

Lana whirled around, but not Jaluth entered this time. This time, it was the guard that had tried to warn her not to make Jaluth angry. He closed the door behind him and hurried over to the cell, one finger in front of his mouth to tell them to be silent.

"Quiet", he whispered when he was standing in front of them. "You have to leave tonight." He opened a small vial he was carrying, pouring the content over one of the bars of the cage. It made a hissing sound, and fumes started to rise, scratching in Lana's throat. "I've burned one of the runes away. That will weaken the magic. Try to make the best of it." He let the vial fall through the bars, into the cage. "Leave it inside, she will think you managed to keep it hidden. Your things are in the opposite room. Make haste."

With that, he turned and left as quietly as he had come, leaving Lana staring after him, her mouth open.

"Why would he do that?", Bishop asked, suspicion thick in his voice.

"I don't know", Lana answered. "Maybe he hates her. She certainly has that effect on me."

"They fear her. I doubt anyone would dare crossing her."

Lana shrugged. "I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. If we can escape, hooray. If not, we have lost nothing."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Fair enough. We'll try."

Lana regarded the bar that had started to flicker and turn dark, the magic glow gone. That should leave an opening in the magical protections... She shifted a bit around the cell, trying to reach out to her powers. Suddenly, she felt them rush back to her, and that eerie whisper that always accompanied her summonings filled the air.

"Gotcha!", she whispered in triumph.

She reached out with her arcane senses, trying to find the other runes protecting the cage. She found them, one after the other, and let her own powers _devour_ the magic infusing them. Gradually, more and more of the bars stopped glowing. Then she found the rune on the bar, keeping the cage locked. Baring her teeth in a nasty smile, she disabled that as well.

"We've got the bitch!", she hissed. "Try open the bolt!"

Bishop got to the door of the cell, reaching out through the bars with shaking hands. His fingers found the bolt – and pulled it back. The door of the cell sprang open.

"Yes!", Lana grinned, hopping to her feet. "Let's get out!"

Bishop left the cell carefully, his feet making no sound while he walked, and strode over to the door.

"Wait", Lana said, turning to the desk, having a look at the papers Jaluth had left behind. One glance told her that they were magical scrolls, containing various spells. She had no time to examine them in detail now, but she grabbed them, shoving them under her shirt.

"Those might come in handy", she said. "Let's get our stuff and split."

Bishop opened the door without a sound and looked outside. He nodded at her and left the room. She followed. The gloomy corridor outside was empty. Noiselessly, Bishop opened the opposite door and they hurried inside the room. It seemed to be some kind of storage. And sure enough, there were their things, thrown carelessly on a heap on the floor. Bishop's leathers, scimitars, bow, her own chain shirt, greatsword, their backpacks – everything.

"Don't you think this is too good to be true?", he whispered.

"Bah", she said, voice low. "Old worrywart! Just grab your things and let's be off!"

He looked at her for a moment, then shrugged, picked up his stuff and started donning his leathers. She threw her chain shirt over her head, then helped him with the buckles of his armour. After strapping their weapons, they moved to the window and looked outside.

Nothing was to see but endless, moonlit forest. Bishop opened the window and turned to her.

"I'll go first. You jump after me. I'll catch you, don't worry." With that, he mounted the windowsill, looked down and jumped. Lana watched as he gracefully rolled as he hit the ground, coming to rest crouched, on his feet.

_Must be a cat somewhere in his family tree._

She climbed the windowsill, looking down doubtfully. The jump had to be about five yards. Bishop got up, positioning himself under the window, nodding up at her.

_Jumping, or Jaluth?_

No choice, really. Lana closed her eyes and jumped.

Bishop's arms closed around her, breaking her fall. She felt him give, rolling to diminish the impact, with her in his arms. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Bishop's face, grinning at her, his teeth white in the moonlight, a triumphant glint in his eyes she had not seen since she met him again.

_Hot damn, we made it!_

He got up, dragging her to her feet, and they ran into the dark woods, hand in hand.

xxx

Behind a dark window of the mansion, Jaluth stood, watching the two figures disappear between the trees.

"So, the birds have flown", she said.

She turned around.

"You did well", she said to the cowering guard before her. "You may go."

Her gaze returned to the silent woods, a malicious smile on her face.


	7. Lost in the Woods

After hours of running through the woods, Lana felt completely exhausted. She admitted at being impressed, though. It had been hell, but Bishop sure knew how to disguise his trail.

They had been dashing along the course of brooks for what seemed like miles, leaving them by climbing through trees – and going from tree to tree for minutes. Only then he allowed them to walk on ground again. He had collected some sharp smelling herbs, telling her to rub them on the soles of her boots, to throw hounds of their track, he said, in case they used them to follow.  
Then it was brooks again, and he would tell her to stand still in the water, while he left the brook, walking for a couple of yards, going up a tree, only to come down again and retreat in his own footsteps – and to run further along the creek. To create a false trail, he told her. To gain time.

But now, she could not go on. She panted, lagging behind, eyeing Bishop with misgivings. He seemed fresh like the morning.

_Wish I had his stamina._

Before her, Bishop turned and stopped, waiting for her to catch up.

"I think we'll look for a place to camp", he said, after looking into her face, seemingly not even out of breath.

She did not even have the energy left to feel annoyed. She probably looked as exhausted as she felt. The weight of her armour and sword seemed to drag her down.

He held out his hand. "Come on, we'll search for a good place for the night. We both need some rest."

She stared at his hand, then slowly took it.

_What am I doing?_

He smiled at her, closed his fingers around hers and turned, continuing through the woods, if at a much more sedate pace. She followed, her hand in his, wondering if some of the madness of the last days had taken its toll on her.

But it did not feel mad. It felt... natural, somehow.

_I'm just exhausted is all._

They went on for maybe half an hour, then Bishop stopped and sniffed the air.

"What is it?", she asked.

"I smell water", he said. "This way."

_He_ smells _water?_

Inconspicuously, she tried to sniff as well. She could not smell a damn thing. Well, besides the smell of mouldy leaves and her own stink. She had not been able to bathe for days, and all this running through the woods had made her sweat like a pig. She felt so sticky, and disgusted by herself.

_Water sure sounds good, I'd like to clean up some._

After a couple of minutes, a small pond came into view. Bishop stopped, releasing Lana's hand, and dropped his backpack to the ground.

Somehow, with his hand gone, she suddenly felt very alone.

_Madness._

She dropped her backpack as well, and her sword scabbard, relieved to be rid of the weight. Sighing, she tried to loosen her cramped shoulders.

Bishop looked at her. "I'm sorry if that was..."

His sentence was cut short when a grey streak shot out of the undergrowth, jumping him, throwing him to the ground.  
Instinctively, Lana reached out to her powers, but relaxed when she heard the ranger laugh, saw him fight to keep the slobbering tongue away from his face.

"Down, boy!", he said, "Stop! Don't you dare _oooohmph!"_

Karnwyr's tongue hat found its mark.

_Yuk._

Half shuddering, half grinning, Lana watched as Karnwyr kept licking Bishop's face in rapture. Eventually, the ranger was able to throw the wolf off, rolling on his side. Spitting, he tried to wipe the slobber from his face.

"Stupid cur!", he said, smiling in spite of himself. "But I'm happy to see you, too, you know." He reached up to pat the head of the wolf sitting before him, panting happily, his tongue lolling out, an expression on his furry face Lana could only interpret as a grin.

"And now", Bishop continued, collecting himself from the ground, "if you excuse me, I think I'm going to wash my face."

He went to the pond, kneeling down at the edge of the water, splashing his face. Lana regarded Karnwyr, who returned her look solemnly.

"Hello boy", she said. "Long time no see."

She crouched down, holding out her hand to him. He got up, stalked over to her, sniffing her hand diligently. Then he rubbed his head against it.

"Glad we're still friends", she said, stroking the soft fur between his ears. He closed his eyes and tried to give her face a lick, but she drew back in time, laughing.

"Oh no, thanks, I really don't want to be kissed by _you"_ , she said.

That sentence brought up the memory of the kiss Bishop had given her the night before. She felt colour creep up in her face.

_No need to blush. Only comfort it was._

She looked at Karnwyr and noticed Bishop standing behind him.

_Blast. Damn his sneakiness!_

Had he heard her last sentence? Had he seen her blush?

She looked up at him from her crouching position and found his eyes on her with an unreadable expression.

_He's going to make some lewd offer. I just know it!_

But he turned away to his backpack and started to take out his bed roll without a word.

_All right – now I_ know _he's been replaced by a doppelganger._

She got up, wiping her hands down her breeches. "I think I need a bath", she said, trying to sound normal.

He nodded. "I don't want you going alone, though", he said. "They might be on our heels."

Her heart started to beat faster.

"You go with her", he said to the wolf. "Guard her."

A strange feeling crept up in her.

_Is that... disappointment?_

No way!

"I'll be quick", she said, and started into the direction of the pond, Karnwyr following on her heels.

_Fine, Lana. What's wrong with you?_

All that time in Bishop's company, all the lewd comments, the coming on to her, even trying to run off with her. And she'd never been tempted. She just did not like him. Did not want to see more of him than she absolutely had to.

And now, suddenly, he made her heart beat faster? She let him hold her hand, let him kiss her?

_He's a completely different person now._

He certainly seemed so. She did not believe it was an act anymore. They had spent so much time together, somehow, somewhere, he would have slipped. The old Bishop had been so full of spite, she would have sensed it somewhere along the way if he was just putting up a show.

And Jaluth had felt it, too. Before he said anything, the harlot had... smelled the change? Lana shuddered at the memory. That had been very disturbing. Not as disturbing as the rest had been, but still. To smell the emotions of someone? To taste them in their blood? What kind of weird shit was that?

Even thinking back at the wizard made Lana's knees feel like rubber. She certainly was glad they had been able to bail. No telling what that crackpot might have cooked up if they had been at her mercy any longer.

No telling if Bishop would have survived a second helping of her sick games.

She had wandered a bit along the edge of the water and now pulled her chain shirt over her head without looking around. If anyone was here, Karnwyr would have known. The only person the wolf would not have growled at was Bishop. And as sure as the old Bishop would have spied on her, the new one would not. She had no doubts about that.

_Somehow, they are like mirror images of each other._

She undressed and stepped into the water. It was cold, but not overly so. She turned around to face the shore and let herself sink slowly backwards, until the water closed over her head. It felt wonderful. She surfaced and opened her braid, letting her long red hair float freely.

Karnwyr was sitting at the edge of the water, his wolf eyes that were so similar to his master's trained on her. His master had told him to watch her, and watch her he would.

She had to admit she was glad about the wolf's presence. She had never felt overly comfortable in the woods. That went doubly for being alone there. All the little noises, the creaking wood, the wind whispering in the leaves, the cries of the birds, little animals scuttling around in the bushes... it made her uncomfortable. And you never knew if a rustling of leaves was not a rabbit hopping away, but something big and bad coming to eat you.

_The most dangerous animal in these woods is probably the man you're travelling with._

Only he was not that man any longer.

But now, there was danger of a different sort.

She always had thought that it was a shame Bishop was such a bastard, because he really was easy on the eyes, as he himself had pointed out. If he had been just a touch nicer, he would have been a dangerously attractive man.

And now, he was so much more than just a touch nicer. And he still was as beautiful as before.

_I really should not think that way about him. About any man._

She loved Casavir. Even though he'd been dead for half a year now, she still loved him deeply.

So, how could she even think about Bishop as a man?

_You're young. You're healthy. It's normal to feel attracted to someone, even if you don't love him. And he_ is _attractive._

It probably was normal. It still made her feel guilty as hell.

She sighed and started to wash as best as she could, rinsing the sweat and the dirt out of her locks. Then she got out of the water, wringing her hair to get as much liquid out as possible. She dressed again, even donning her chain shirt so it kept her wet hair away from her shirt. She'd leave her hair open until it had dried.

"Thanks for watching out for me, furface", she said to Karnwyr, petting his head.

The wolf's tongue lolled out, and again Lana could have sworn he was grinning. Well, maybe he was. The wolf often seemed more intelligent than some people she had met.

Lana slowly went back in the direction of their little camp, surprised to find a fire crackling.

"Isn't that dangerous? It might lead them to us, if they follow", she asked Bishop.

He shrugged. "Maybe, but I thought you'd need to dry your hair if you took a bath", he said. "Besides, I'm fairly certain it would take them a long time to follow our track. We've been making it difficult for them."

She stared at him, at a loss what to say.

_He started a fire so I could dry my hair?_

This was getting uncanny.

He noticed her gaze. "Something wrong?", he asked, surprised.

She flinched, caught. "Errm... no, I'm fine. Thanks", she said, sitting down next to the fire, fanning out her hair to help the warmth dry it.

It was his time to stare at her. The intensity in his gaze made the colour creep up to her cheeks.

She cleared her throat. "Something wrong?", she echoed, trying to sound normal.

He blinked, as if his thoughts had been far away, then shook his head.

"I think I'm going to have a bath, too", he said. "Karnwyr will stay with you."

With that, he turned on his heels and marched away.

Lana sighed and rubbed her eyes. Call it a hunch, but she had the feeling things might get complicated.


	8. Too Close for Comfort

While Bishop was taking his bath, Lana decided to have a closer look at the scrolls she had picked up from Jaluth's desk. She took out the parchments from her backpack and started going through them, one by one.

To her astonishment – and discomfort – most of them were healing spells.

_Do I really want to know why that harlot would need such an amount of healing spells for the "special plans" she had to get Bishop to hate her again?_

The answer to that was a definite _No, thank you._ Unfortunately, her imagination was very forthcoming with explanations in spite of that. She shoved the images away and continued to rifle through the scrolls.

_Healing, Healing, Delay Poison_ – oh dear gods – _Neutralise Poison_ – what the hells was that hussy planning? – _Healing, Healing, Symbol of Pain_ – the bitch! – _Healing, Healing, Healing, Resurrection..._

Resurrection?

_By Graz'zt's horns!_

Lana suddenly was very, very happy they had made it outside. Those special plans really did seem special.

The sight of a pair of boots stepping up next to her made her flinch and look up. She had not heard anyone approaching. Bishop loomed above her, his hair wet and even more messy than usual, the stubble still on his face. Obviously he had not bothered shaving.

_It's strangely comforting that some things don't change in the end._

He crouched down next to her. "Anything interesting?"

She quickly had a look at the last scroll in her hand. Teleport? She frowned. Somehow that did not fit with the rest.

"Well", she said, "there's a liberal amount of healing spells here. Some against poisoning, and a Symbol of Pain."

He blanched a bit. "She really did have plans for me, huh?"

Lana nodded. "Apparently. And that still leaves the Resurrection scroll open for explanation."

"Resurrection?", he said, his eyes wide.

"Oh yes", Lana replied. "I'm _so_ glad we got away."

"No as glad as me, believe me", he said, hoarsely. "I really don't want to know why she thought she'd need a Resurrection scroll."

"I don't even want to think about it"; she said. "The interesting thing is, all of these are scrolls of divine magic. But Jaluth is a mage, an arcane caster."

"Maybe that's why she needs scrolls?"

Lana shook her head. "No, arcane casters can't cast divine spells, not even from scrolls. So maybe she is a cleric, too? I heard rumours of Necromancers, masters of the dead – and they are adept in the arts of the arcane as well as in divine magic. I wonder if that is what Jaluth is?"

He shuddered. "Very congenial. Your friendly Necromancer next door. A dream come true."

"Nightmare, more like", Lana said dryly. "The only thing that does not fit is this Teleport scroll. That's arcane magic. And while I can think of uses for the other scrolls in one of her little games, though I'd prefer not to dwell on it, I can't imagine what that Teleport scroll might be for. But it might come in handy, if they find us. I'll keep it close by and ready."

With that, she shoved the scroll under her shirt. "That might scratch a bit, but I'll have it close. And hopefully, if we get caught, no one will find it there."

He nodded. "Good thinking. Maybe I can make you something to carry it more comfortably." He indicated at the other scrolls. "Will you be able to cast them? You're an arcane caster too, are you not?"

Lana shook her head. "No, my powers are neither arcane nor divine. They come more from... within, from my blood. I really can't explain." She winked at him. "But I have... you can call it a knack for using these babies. And some training." She held up the scrolls. "No matter if arcane or divine, I can use them all the same."

She picked out a scroll with a lesser healing spell. "Show me your chest."

She glanced up and found him looking at her with an odd expression on his face. To her annoyance, she felt the blood rise to her cheeks again. She sought refuge in anger.

"Don't get any ideas, wolf boy!", she snapped. "I'm not interested in what you've got to offer. I just want to see how bad it still is!"

He did not say anything, but started to pull the shirt out of his breeches. Lana felt her mouth go dry and resolutely kept her eyes on the scroll, pretending to study it intensely. When he pulled the shirt over his head, she looked up, her gaze falling to his stomach.

She swallowed, but this time for a different reason. It looked bad – honestly, it looked worse than before. The cuts still were there, crusted with blood. The bites and bruises had turned a dark violet with some shades of green. Some of the burns looked wet and seeped fluid, they certainly got infected. And all of the different kinds of wounds flowed into each other, leaving no inch of skin unaffected.

"Oh boy", she said, weakly. "She really did a job on you."

"That she did", he replied, tonelessly. "But nothing like she had planned for today, it seems."

"I'm happy we spoiled her fun."

He shuddered. "Me, too."

"Hold still", she said, softly. "I'm going to use this on you."

"Shouldn't we keep them, for emergencies?"

"This is an emergency. Some of your wounds are infected, and we can't have you get ill. Besides, we still have plenty left."

With that, she started to recite the words from the scroll. Casting from scrolls always felt strange to her. It was so... different. Divine magic mostly felt gentle, soft, calm... power flowing through her, but it was so different from her own power, from the rush of otherworldy energy she was used to.

As she had tried to explain, her own powers came from within, seemed to burst out of her in a somehow exhilarating rush. Divine power she could feel coming from outside, flowing _through_ her, using her as a vessel only. Arcane magic felt different again, even more strange to her, because it was so... organised, intellectual somehow, so very, very different to the chaotic surges of her power.

But no matter how strange, how foreign it felt, it still worked. She watched as the bruises faded on Bishop's stomach, the cuts seemed to close themselves, the burns vanished, leaving only smooth, tanned skin and a few old scars behind.

The downside was that now, with the injuries gone, there was nothing to distract her from the sight before her. Her eyes slowly wandered over the narrow hips, the flat stomach with muscles rippling underneath the smooth skin, a thin trail of mahogany hair running down from his chest, disappearing into the top of his breeches, up to his chest, broader than his hips and stomach, lean, but well muscled like the rest; his strong archer's arms, his shoulders, broad and sculpted...

She ripped her eyes away before they could reach his face, rolled up the rest of the scrolls and resolutely stuffed them into her backpack.

"Well, that worked", she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "You can put on your shirt again."

"Thanks, Ma'am", he said.

Was there a hint of laughter in his voice? She decided against looking at him to find out. She really did not want to know.

She heard a rustling as he stuffed the shirt into his breeches. Then he grabbed his leathers and started donning them. Finished with that, he took his weapons.

"I'll see if I can get some dinner for us", he said. "Karnwyr will stay with you."

She nodded, still refusing to look at him. "Take care out there."

She heard him stepping up at her, his hand softly running over her still wet hair. "I will", he said. Then he turned and left without a noise.

Lana sighed and returned to the fire, proceeding to dry her hair, her stomach still in a knot.

_Hells, hells, hells. What_ is _wrong with me?_

After her hair was finally dry, more or less, and falling in waves over her shoulder and back, Lana sat back a bit from the fire looking up into the slowly darkening sky. She felt slightly apprehensive with Bishop out of sight.

_We should not split up like this, not with the loony queen on our heels._

But if they wanted something to eat besides the meagre provisions they carried, Bishop would have to hunt alone. Because she had to admit her movements in a forest were less than graceful. Every deer would hear her stumbling through the bushes from miles away.

_Stupid undergrowth. Always gets tangled around my feet._

But she felt terribly alone and lost right now. And she had to admit she worried about Bishop.

_Don't worry about him. He's probably the most dangerous thing in these woods._

And if someone was after him, he'd hear them long before they could get a chance to see him. And he just would disappear from sight.

She'd never really noticed how at home he seemed in the wilds. Probably because she never travelled with him alone, if at all. But now she could not help but think how well he fit in here. He certainly seemed more alive, more sure of himself since they ran into the woods. More in charge than she ever had seen him. Well, no wonder – she certainly did not know her way around here. She had to rely on his help completely. Without him, she'd have a hard time making it out of this wilderness.

_Somehow, he seems as wild as these woods..._

_Gosh, Lana, from which ditsy novel did you pick up_ that _sentence?_

Hells, hopefully he came back soon before she could get any more silly ideas. She sighed, her eyes falling on Karnwyr, sitting some yards away, watching her like he'd been told.

"Come here, furface", she called out.

The wolf got up and trotted over to her. She stroked his head, lying back on her sleeping roll. He lay down next to her, stretched on his side, and she snuggled up to him, burying her hands in his thick, soft fur.

xxx

She woke to the smell of roasting meat. On cue, her stomach started rumbling. She opened her eyes, blinking a bit, looking directly into Karnwyr's eyes, wolf grin on his furry face as usual.

"Awake at last?", she heard Bishop's amused voice.

Lana stretched, yawning. "You should have woken me.", she said.

"You two looked so snug together, I did not want to disturb you. Besides, now that you've had a nice, long nap, you can take first watch."

"We'll have a hard time dividing the watches between us two", she said, sitting up.

Bishop indicated at the wolf. "Karnwyr will take third watch. He's more alert than any of us, anyway."

"That's true at least for me, isn't it, furface?", she said, affectionately rubbing the wolf's ears. He gave her hand a quick lick, and she laughed, her eyes going to Bishop.

To find him looking back at her with that strange expression on his face again. Lana hastily averted her eyes, getting up, making a great deal about getting the wolf hair off her clothes.

When she was sure her face had a normal colour again, she went over to the fire and sat down, but kept her eyes on the roasting deer.

"I'm hungry as... well, as a wolf", she said. "How long will it take?"

"It's probably fine to eat", he said, taking the deer from the fire. He got out his dagger and started cutting a piece, speared it with the dagger and handed it to her. "A bit bland, I fear, without any seasoning, but the best I could do."

"Never mind, I'm so hungry I'd eat nearly anything", she said, carefully taking a bite out of the hot meat. "Shangsh", she managed with her mouth full.

He grinned. "You're welcome. Care to lend me your dagger?"

Ooops. "Shorry", she mumbled, getting out her dagger and handing it over to him.

He took it and they sat in silence, eating. After they finshed, Lana cleaned Bishop's dagger and gave it back to him. Then she sat down again, starting to braid her hair.

"Don't", he said softly.

She looked up, surprised. "What, why?"

He reached out his hand, touching one of her locks. "Because it's so beautiful when you wear it open. It's like flames dancing round your face. It makes me want to run my fingers through it, to see if it feels as silky as it looks."

Lana blushed furiously again. She got up and stomped back to her sleeping roll, turning to anger as always when she felt helpless.

"Yeah, well, too bad, because I hate it falling into my face", she snapped, stubbornly continuing to collect her locks into her usual braid. "And now, how about you get some sleep instead of talking rubbish? I'll wake you for second watch."

He shrugged, cutting a large piece of the meat, throwing it to Karnwyr, who adroitly caught it and started... well, to wolf it down.

"Good night", he said, lying down on his sleeping roll.

"Night", she mumbled, watching Karnwyr making short work of the meat. "You better catch some sleep too, cur, you're on later", she said to him, still feeling grumpy.

He looked at her and she could have sworn she could see laughter on his face.

_Stupid mutt!_


	9. Some Pain, Some Gain

Lana woke when someone softly touched her face. She smiled, still half asleep, catching the hand and pressing a soft kiss into the palm.

“Good morning, my love”, she murmured tenderly.

Then she noticed the smell. 

_Earth, leaves, moss, campfires... and underneath it the scent of a man, spicy, musky, not unpleasant, not at all..._

But not Casavir’s smell.

Why did it not smell like Casavir?

_Because Casavir is gone._

The familiar pain clenched her stomach and she woke up completely, opening her eyes, to find Bishop’s face looming over her.

“Well, that certainly was more welcoming than I dared to hope”, he said, smiling.

The pain mixed with embarrassment and as usual resulted in anger. She let go of his hand, pushing against his chest violently, sending him sprawling backwards.

“Oh, you’re so full of yourself, wolf boy, it makes me want to heave”, she hissed, her eyes narrowed to green slits. “Do that again and I’ll have your guts for garters, take my word on it!”

She got up and stomped over to the pond, sitting down to splash water on her face.

_The bastard! How dare he?_

She felt tears rising to her eyes and tried to push them back. She had not cried for Casavir since... well, for days. Maybe weeks. 

_I’m not letting Bishop see me cry!_

But it was of no use. Finding the other side of the bed empty each morning, it hurt, hurt like hell, but she had gotten used to it. But having someone touch her, tenderly, thinking it was Casavir and then remembering him gone... it was too much. She could not even have explained it to anyone, but it just was too much.

She sat at the edge of the water, tears running down her face, her shoulders shaking, fighting to keep the noise inside, clenching her jaw so the sobs wouldn’t escape. Because she knew that as soon as she let the sobs out, she would break down crying. And she would not break down. No way was she going to break down.

She felt someone nudging her back and whirled round, ready to fry the bastard if he dared to come after her, dared to gloat.

But it was only Karnwyr, standing before her, his wolf face level with hers since she sat crouched.

She drew a shaking breath, rubbing her eyes, trying to force the tears down once more. When she lowered her hands, the wolf gave them a tentative lick, whined softly and moved closer, rubbing his head against her.

She put her arms around the animal, burying her face in the soft fur of his neck. Breathing slowly, deliberately, she fought for control. Gradually, the need to fall to the ground, bawling like a baby, subsided, leaving the also familiar feeling of emptiness behind.

And her nose started to register again.

She lifted her face from Karnwyr’s neck, making a face. “I think you could use a bath, too, furface”, she said, thickly, her voice not yet steady again.

He tried to lick her face, but she grabbed the loose skin on his neck, holding him back. 

“Sorry”, she said softly. “Still don’t want to be kissed by you. But thanks for being there.”

His tongue lolled out and he grinned at her. She shook her head and splashed some more water on her face, to rinse away the stains of the tears, and cool her heated skin.

_I probably look horrible... my face red and splotchy, my eyes swollen..._

_And why do you care?_

She didn’t. Of course she didn’t care. She just did not want Bishop to see he made her cry. His head would probably get so big it would explode.

She cooled her face some more, and her temper seemed to cool down with it. She actually started to feel a bit guilty for biting his nose off like that.

_He doesn’t know. Couldn’t know._

But she’d be damned if she apologised to him.

_If he kept his ruddy fingers to himself, that would not have happened. His own damn fault._

She’d just act as if nothing had happened. 

She got up, gave Karnwyr’s head another pat and went back to the camp, trying very hard to look normal. Hopefully her face was not blotchy anymore...

Bishop sat on his bedroll, chewing, watching her approach with a carefully neutral expression on his face. She tried to ignore the awkward situation, sat down on her bedroll as well and avoided looking into his face.

“What’s for breakfast?”, she asked, still trying for normalcy.

He wordlessly handed her a piece of cold meat from yesterday’s dinner. She took it and started to chew. 

_Yummy, cold meat for breakfast._

_We should try to find an inn for tonight._

The thought made her remember that very likely, as soon as they reached the first signs of civilisation, there would be no “we” anymore. They would go on their separate ways, no need to stick together anymore.

Now, why did that thought make her less than happy?

The truth was, she hated being alone. Travelling alone was even worse. Men seemed to find her “cute”. And that seemed to be a synonym for “easy prey”. The greatsword on her back managed to discourage some of them, but too many did not get the hint. She’d grown tired of having to refuse more or less flattering offers progressively less polite, and in the end give a demonstration of her powers to get rid of the most stupid ones.

Yes, travelling alone was a drag. So no wonder she did not want to see him go.

Right.

“Any idea where we are?”, she asked, to break a silence that was getting oppressive. 

He shrugged. “Not really. Probably a lot nearer to Luskan than we started out, so I thought we should keep heading south until we hit a road. Other than that, no, no idea.”

“Fine, then”, she said, preparing to get up. “We should get started.”

He caught her hand. “Lana”, he said, softly.

She looked up, into his face, a feeling of apprehension rising in her.

“I’m sorry if I said something to hurt you. I did not mean to. I did not think. Please don’t be mad at me.”

She swallowed, trying to avoid his strange honey coloured eyes. Damn him, why did he have to be so bloody nice? You could not dislike someone properly if they insisted on being nice all the time.

“I’m not mad anymore”, she grumbled, still looking away, ripping her hand out of his. “I just want to be off.” She practically jumped to her feet and started to collect her stuff.

He sighed. “That was not very convincing”, he said. “But if you wish – let’s be off.” With that, he also started packing.

 

They marched the day in silence, more or less. Sometimes, Bishop turned to see if Lana was still following him. Once or twice, he seemed to want to say something, but then he just turned around and proceeded through the woods.

Lana stumbled after him, cursing him, cursing the blasted thickets they had to crawl through, cursing the warm weather that made her sweat and huff, and most of all, cursing that no good hussy that had put them into that situation in the first place.

_If it had not been for her, I’d be halfway to Waterdeep by now!_

Karnwyr kept bouncing ahead, running back, hopping around them, yipping, bouncing ahead again, until she cursed him, too. It made her dizzy. And envious of the wolf’s energy.

In the late afternoon, they stepped out of the trees to find a lane running from east to west. 

_Oh thank the gods._

She had it up to her ears with trudging through the woods.

Bishop turned to her. “Where to now, fearless leader?”

“What do I know? You’re supposed to be the blasted scout here!”

He looked at her, then shook his head. “I don’t know what I did to put you into such a foul mood, but whatever it was, I apologise, ok?” He paused and added: “I guess this road leads to Longsaddle in the east, and to Neverwinter in the west. Jaluth would expect us to go to Neverwinter, I think – so I would propose Longsaddle. And I would feel better if we kept off the road, if you want my humble opinion.”

Keeping off the road?

More blasted undergrowth?

She looked along the rutted path longingly. In comparison to crawling through the bushes it seemed downright comfortable.

She heard Bishop chuckle. Then he said: “I get the message. Fine, we’ll stick to the road. And hope for the best.”

Lana was so thankful she did not even feel annoyed about him laughing at her.

They wandered along the path, and soon, the forest gave way to grassland and farms. 

“We’re nearer to Longsaddle than I thought”, Bishop remarked. “It’s a relatively small town, but an important centre for cattle and horse trade, and market is held there rather often. Let’s hope it’s not overrun by marketgoers right now.”

Come dusk, the first buildings of a small hamlet came into view. As they neared the village, Lana could make out the outline of a building in the middle, built atop a small hill. It seemed like the brainchild of a lunatic, very large, with several extensions and outbuildings and numerous spires rising into the evening sky.

“What is that building?”, Lana asked.

Bishop shrugged. “Home of some mage family. They kind of own this town. But the people here seem to like them, so I guess they can’t be like our dear friend Jaluth.”

She looked at him searchingly. “For someone who lost his memory, you sure seem to know a lot.”

He held her gaze, answering. “I do remember a lot. Everything not concerning myself, it seems. It’s only my personal history that is gone.”

She hesitated for a moment. “You never told me... what have you been up to these last months? I mean, without your memory... it must have been harsh.”

He nodded. “It was. At first... I was so lost. I did not know what to do, where to go. So I mainly kept to the woods, because somehow, I still knew my way around there. Only recently I found the courage to go under people. I hoped that I might encounter someone, something that would bring my memory back. And I have. I have met you.” He smiled at her.

“But that did not bring your memory back”, she pointed out.

“No”, he said. “But at least you were able to tell me something – even if I did not like what I heard. And I don’t feel as alone anymore. Karnwyr kept me company, but sometimes, it’s just nice to be able to talk to another human being.” He paused, than added, hesitatingly: “I did not have to look for work, because I found myself carrying a surprising amount of gold. After what you told me about myself, I could not help but wonder... how did I come by that much money? Should I feel worried about that...?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Our travels together put a lot of money in all our pockets. That was the main reason you hung around as long as you did, I think.” Fleetingly, she thought of the times he tried to get her to run off with him, of the strange light in his eyes then, but shoved the images away. “It made you rich beyond your wildest dreams.”, she concluded. “So don’t worry about the money, it’s not ill gotten.”

He nodded, seemingly relieved, just as they entered the small town.

Bishop pointed at a building ahead which looked like it had started out as a barn. “That’s the Gilded Horseshoe, the inn here. I seem to remember them serving a fantastic turkey.”

“Oh, thank the gods”, she sighed. “A proper meal. And hopefully a bath. And a soft bed for the night. Pure bliss awaits.”

He grinned. “I take it you did not like my hospitality last night.”

She smiled at him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so grumpy all day. But I guess I’m just not forest girl. I prefer my bath warm, my dinner properly cooked and seasoned, and my bed soft, in a room with four walls and a roof. I’m a wimp, so sue me.”

He laughed, took her hand and squeezed it softly. “I wonder if I could teach you to love the wilds like I do. It’s wondrous, you know, if you know your way around. It’s freedom. No master, no bounds, no obligations. Just you and your wit and skills.”

She stared at the ground, pulling her hand out of his. “Are you offering to run away with me into the woods again?”

“Maybe I am”, he said softly. “What would you say if I did?”

She shook her head, wondering why her chest felt so tight. “I’d have to decline, like the last two times.”

They walked up to the door of the inn in silence. When Lana reached out for the door, he put his hand on the handle, turning to her.

“Why?”, he said, his voice low. “Is there anywhere else you have to be?”

She stood under the softly creaking sign with the golden horseshoe on it, desperately wishing herself miles away. 

“Drop it, Bishop”, she said, wearily. “I just can’t. I won’t. Don’t want to. That’s all there is to say.”

Wordlessly, he pushed the door open and stood back to let her enter.

 

Later, she found herself lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling of the room. Sleep did not want to find her tonight, it seemed.

She thought back at the last few hours. She had taken her much needed bath, with soap this time, and then they had met for dinner in the taproom. The inn really seemed to have started out as a barn, so the walls were not as well fitted as one would expect. The owner, an elderly, overweight, good-natured fellow with a scraggly white beard, had countered the constant draughts by hanging a multitude of furs and covers along the walls which made the taproom look oddly like a tent.

The turkey had been all Bishop had promised it to be. But while the food was great, the conversation during dinner had been strained. They both had carefully avoided possible sensitive topics, which left them preciously little to talk about. The forced, artificial flow of small talk that resulted felt very strange after the companionship they had shared during the last days.

Lana had realised with a shock how close they had grown in such short time. She did not like that at all. She did not want to feel close to Bishop. She realised she would miss him once they parted ways, and that would not do at all.

And now she was lying in the semi-darkness, listening to Bishop toss and turn in his bed. Maybe he was having a nightmare. Small wonder after what had happened.

They had taken a room together, because they did not want to split up for the night. For security, of course. What else?

“No....”, she heard Bishop moan in his sleep. “No... please, no... NOOOOOOO!”

She jumped out of bed, running to his side, grabbing his shoulders, shaking him. “Bishop”, she called out. “Wake up! It’s a dream, it’s only a dream!”

He opened his eyes, staring at her, disorientation and confusion plain on his face. She could see tear stains on his cheeks.

“Oh gods...”, he whispered, starting to shiver.

“Shhhh”, she said, softly wiping the tears away. “It’s all right, it was just a dream. We’re safe. Did you dream of Jaluth?”

“No”, he said, his voice shaking. “Not Jaluth. There was a fire... a big fire, a whole village burning, I think. People burning, crying out in agony, all around... and I was watching, and I laughed. I wanted to cry, but I forced myself to laugh.”

The shivering increased. “It was so vivid, it was like I really was there. Please, tell me that was only a dream.”

_Slimy, stinking hells._

She had dreaded that moment. Now she would have to tell him.

She slowly shook her head, running her fingers through his hair. “No”, she said, softly. “I’m afraid it is a memory.”

Tears showed in his eyes again. “Oh gods”, he whispered. “What did I do?”

“I’m not really sure, because it must have been long before we met. But you told me once – when you faced me together with Garius. Threw it into my face. So I knew who I was up against, I guess.” She swallowed, continuing to softly stroke his hair. “You told me it had been the initiation rite as a Luskan assassin. To choose a village, burn it to the ground with all the people in it. You picked your own home village.”

She stopped, not knowing what else to tell him.

He sat up, staring into her face in disbelieve. “Luskan _assassin...?”_ , he asked, tonelessly. “Burning down my home village? Killing everyone in the process? That can’t be true. No, no, no, it can’t be true!”

She held his gaze, at a loss for words.

He started to shiver violently again. “Oh gods”, he choked out. “You really were not exaggerating when you told me I was a monster, were you?”

She wordlessly shook her head.

He laughed bitterly. “No wonder you don’t want anything to do with me. I’m truly starting to understand now. Why did you not tell me?”

“I don’t know”, she said, taking his hand. “Because it was so long ago, I think. Something you only told me about, not something I saw with my own eyes. It could even have been a lie, for all I knew. You kind of liked to brag how big and bad you were. And...”, she paused, “... I guess I thought I was a mercy you did not remember, if it was true.”

He closed his eyes, still shivering. “You should just have let Jaluth take me. Whatever she dishes out, I think I deserve it.”

She ran her hand over his stubbly cheek. “Don’t say that”, she murmured. “You’re not that man anymore.”

“No”, he said, tonelessly. “I’m not. But I have to live with what he did.”

She squeezed his hand and started to get up. “Try to sleep some more”, she said.

He fastened his grip around her hand and held her back.

“Stay with me?”, he asked, his voice low, reaching up to touch her face with his other hand. “Please. I don’t want to be alone tonight. That’s all, I promise.”

She stared down into his face, his eyes showing that wounded look again, and sighed.

“Roll over a bit”, she said.

He shifted to the side of the bed, rolling to his side. She slipped under the cover, turning her back to him. His arm went around her waist, pulling her close, against his body, as he snuggled up at her, burying his face in her long, loose hair, inhaling deeply.

“Thank you”, he whispered.

Soon, his breathing went deep and even, and she knew that sleep had claimed him again. 

Lana lay awake for a long time, Bishop’s arm circled around her waist, his chest pressing against her back, his breath softly stirring her hair.


	10. Waking Up

Lana woke to the feeling of a warm body snuggled against her back and a heavy arm holding her close.

She smiled, cuddling closer to the firm warmth behind her, searching for his hand, squeezing it softly.

_Casavir, my love._

Something in the back of her mind tried to get her attention. She frowned, still half asleep, trying to catch the thought.

Again, it was the scent she recognised first.

_Earthy, musky, spicy, under a layer of soap..._

The smell of the woods, a wild smell.

Bishop.

And as every morning, the realisation of Casavir's death hit her hard. She drew a shaking breath, forcing down the ever ready tears.

_I won't cry._

She felt Bishop stir behind her, his hand reaching up to stroke her hair. And the first tear trickled down her face.

He moved back a bit, seizing her shoulder, turning her to her back. He reached out, his finger tenderly wiping away the tear from her cheek.

"Want to tell me about it?", he asked, softly.

She stared up at him, his mahogany hair even messier with sleep, a concerned expression on his face, the amber eyes full of sympathy. The blanket had slipped down, revealing broad, tanned shoulders and a well-muscled chest.

Even in her saddened state of mind, he made her breath catch.

_By the pits of hell, he's gorgeous._

She averted her eyes and shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it", she said, thickly.

"You always seem to be there for me if I need comfort", he said. "The least I can do is return the favour."

She just shook her head frantically. No, no comfort. She did not need comfort. She did not want comfort. If she accepted comfort, she just knew the dam inside her would break, and heavens knew when she would be able to stop crying again.

"No!", she said, forcefully. "I don't want to talk about it! Savvy? So shut up already."

"If that is what you wish... as long as you know that I'll be there, if you want me to." His voice was soft, compassionate, his hand stroking her hair again.

She kept her face away from him, still fighting the tears, not wanting him to see.

He ran his fingers through a strand of her red locks.

"They _do_ feel as silky as they look", he said, in wonderment.

Suddenly, he was much too close. She threw back the covers, preparing to jump out of the bed.

"Wait", he said, grabbing her arm.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Let go, wolf boy", she said.

This time he did not comply. "Not until you heard me out", he said, shaking his head.

"Let. Go.", she growled.

"Listen", he said, "still holding on to her arm. "I said I won't try anything, and I won't. I just wanted to say...", his voice faltered, and he swallowed. He let go of her arm, running his fingertips over her cheek instead.

"Lana", he said softly, as if tasting the name on his tongue. "I... I think I'm falling in love with you."

She felt her eyes go wide and the colour drain form her face. She slipped out under his hand, retreating backwards from the bad, fervently shaking her head, making her red locks fly around her face.

"Oh no", she said, a hint of panic in her voice. "No, no, no. Don't. Just don't!"

He watched her retreat, not moving after her. "I can't help it", he said, sadly. "I know you don't even like me much, and I really understand why. I also know that there is someone else, someone who is not here, someone you cry for. But I still can't help it. I don't expect anything from you. I... I just wanted to tell you."

Panic welled up in her in earnest. And she did what she always did when she could not handle a situation. She lashed out.

"Well, I wish you'd kept your gob shut", she snarled. "I don't want to hear about it. I don't want to know. You're _not_ in love with me, you hear? You're not even _capable_ of loving someone. I'm the only link to your past, is all. We'll just have to get your past back, and then you can be on your merry way, and I won't ever have to clap eyes on you again!"

She saw a hurt look cross his face in the split second before he looked away. "Fair enough", he said, his voice very soft. "I won't bother you with it again." He got up, taking his shirt from the chair next to his bed, pulling it over his head. His hands shook slightly.

She flopped down on her bed, staring at the ground, refusing to look at him while he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

xxx

Half an hour later, Lana had worked up enough courage to leave the room and go down into the taproom. Enough courage to face Bishop.

She did feel guilty for ripping his head off like that. But the more she thought about it, the more she came to the conviction that it had been the right thing to do. To make matters abundantly clear, leaving no room for misunderstandings behind. Better to quash any ideas in his head before they caused more difficulties. To nip things in the bud.

Still, she might have been a touch nicer about it.

She spied him, sitting at a table, two plates with eggs and bacon on it, untouched. Her hands grew moist, and her mouth dry instead.

_By Asmodeus' blood!_

This was ridiculous. She resolutely walked up to the table and sat down opposite to Bishop. He did not look up, but picked up his fork and started shoving the egg around on his plate.

She suddenly did not feel hungry anymore. But she'd be damned if she let him see that. He might get the wrong ideas. Might think she regretted what she'd said to him.

So she pulled her plate and shovelled a forkful of egg into her mouth, forcing herself to swallow.

"Listen", she said, trying to sound nonchalant about it. "I've been thinking. You said you remember Garius saying that if you wanted your memories back, you have to bring him back?"

He nodded, wordlessly, still playing with the egg on his plate.

"So", she said, "let's bring him back."

That made him look up at last. "What?", he asked, incredulously.

"Well", she said, "we _do_ have that Resurrection scroll, so thoughtfully provided by your dear friend Jaluth. And we don't have a better use for it. So we can bring him back. What do you think?"

His eyes narrowed a bit. "He died in the Vale of Merdelain. You want to go there, try to find his body?"

"No", she said. "The whole thing collapsed after we killed the King of Shadows. The corpse is buried good and solid." Her heart clenched as she thought of the other bodies buried there.

"Then, how do you propose to bring him back?" His voice was still reserved, cool.

She chewed another fork of egg, proud of herself for thinking of it. "What we killed in the Vale of Merdelain was the Shadow Reaver Garius had become. Garius himself we killed – and buried, I like to say – at Crossroad Keep."

"I don't see what that gains us. He sure wanted to be brought back as the Shadow Reaver."

"Yes", she said, triumphantly. "I think that's what he _wanted_."

He sighed, shoving his plate away for good. "You'll excuse me if I really don't have the patience for riddles right now."

"Spoilsport", she said. "What he did say in your head was just to bring him back, wasn't it?"

He shrugged. "Yes."

"So", she said, "that's what we'll do. Bring _him_ back. Garius. The human."

He stared at her. "You think that will work?"

"Count on it, wolf boy", she said. "A Geas is a tricky thing. You have to be real careful how you phrase it. It does not care for what you _meant_ , it just works with what you _said_. So if Garius told you to bring him back, we'll bring _him_ back. As in human. And then, we can deal with him again."

He smiled thinly, and that smile was eerily reminiscent of the Bishop of old. "Oh, I would love to _deal_ with him", he said.

xxx

An hour later found them leaving the Gilded Horseshoe, on their way south again. Since their discussion at the breakfast table, Bishop had been silent. Lana had considered trying to talk to him, to lighten up the mood a bit, but had refrained from it in the end. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe. If it had not made her feel so damn guilty...

They walked in silence, out of the hamlet, into the surrounding grassland with the cattle and horse farms. After some minutes, the usual grey blur emerged from some bushes and pounced Bishop. He stumbled backwards, but managed to stay on his feet.

"Easy, boy", he said, smiling genuinely for the first time that day. He knelt down, grabbing Karnwyr's ears and rubbing them. "Missed you too", he said. He hugged the wolf close for a moment, then got up again and proceeded down the road without looking at Lana.

Karnwyr came to her, licking her hand. She patted his head. "Hello, furface", she said.

She had to admit even to herself that her voice sounded sad somehow.

They walked on, the silence stretching between them. Planning how to go on had helped to gloss over the breach between them for a short while. But now, as it was decided what was to be done, it made itself felt clearly. Bishop would not look at her, would not talk to her besides the most basic necessities.

She could not even blame him for it. She had been rude.

More than that, she had been cruel.

Now that the panic his confession had elicited was gone she had to admit she had handled the situation badly. As she often did. She really was not big on the tact and diplomacy. Not her strong side. Never had been. She was much better at burning problems with brimstone fire until they went away.

She kept throwing glances at him as they walked. He held himself some paces ahead of her, so mostly she could see his back. He sometimes glanced over his shoulder to see if she kept up, but that was about it. Other than that, he did not acknowledge her existence.

Karnwyr initially bounced around them, yipping and excited, but after some time the mood seemed to rub on him, and he got quiet, trotting along, often looking from one to the other as if wondering what was wrong.

Well, what _wasn't_ wrong?

Somehow, her life really seemed to go downhill at a furious pace. She had lost Casavir. She had run away from her duties at the Keep. She had been caught by the queen of the loonies and thrown in with Bishop, who was not really Bishop anymore. She had managed to substantially hurt his feelings, and now they were on their way to get his memories back, so they could part ways. After she somehow had grown used to his company.

And then she would be on her own again, with really no plans and no purpose. And nowhere to go.

Oh yes, life was swell.

xxx

Come evening, Bishop found a sheltered place to camp at a rocky outcrop, covered by some trees. They rolled out their bedrolls, Bishop started a fire, and they sat in silence once more, munching on the pies the Gilded Horseshoe sold as provisions for the road.

According to the owner of the inn, those pies were one of their specialities and should be a delicacy. As for Lana, they could have been made of wood shavings. They somehow turned to ash in her mouth.

She kept peeking at Bishop, but he still avoided her gaze, staring into the fire, stroking Karnwyr's fur. And the guilt she was feeling kept growing by the moment. Kept building and building until it threatened to flow out of her ears.

_Fine, I give. I give! I'll apologise!_

But even with that decision, finding words seemed really hard. She opened and closed her mouth for a couple of times, starting to speak and ditching the sentence she was about to say again.

It was him who spoke first. "I'll take first watch", he said in a neutral voice. "I'll wake you for second. Go to sleep."

Well, now or never, was it?

"Look, I'm sorry", she mumbled, staring at the ground.

There was a silence, stretching for endless seconds.

"For what?", he eventually said.

"For what I said, of course", she snapped, already getting impatient. She really was not good at apologising, did he have to make it even harder by playing stupid? "What do you think I meant? I should not have said that. I did not mean it."

Silence again. Then: "Yes, you did. You made yourself clear. I said I won't bother you with it again, and I won't. Don't worry, I'll live. We'll resurrect Garius and then you won't have to see me again. Unfortunately, I can't use the scroll, so I appreciate your help. Apart from that, you don't have to put up with me. Now go to sleep, your watch is on in three hours."

"Fine, be that way!", she said, throwing herself onto her bedroll. "I've tried!"

With that, she rolled to her side and pretended to go to sleep, fuming silently. If he wanted to be stubborn and childish, that was his decision. She _had_ tried, she had. Had even apologised! If he still wanted to sulk, that was not her problem anymore. Her conscience was clean.

Sure.

xxx

In a dark room, maybe three day's marches away, Jaluth got up from her stuffed chair in front of a small table. On the table was a large crystal ball, showing the image of two persons next to a small fire, underneath a rocky outcrop with some trees growing on top.

She let her hand run over the smooth surface of the crystal and the image vanished. A delighted smile curled her mouth.

"Very good, my children", she purred. "I knew you would figure it out. Now make good use of that nice scroll I left for you. That's an expensive spell. You better not waste it, or I might get testy."

She went over to her desk, lighting a candle, then started to sort through the parchments there.

"Now", she said, "where did that Teleportation scroll go? It has to be here somewhere..."


	11. The Dream

Lana woke the next morning as something rough and very wet repeatedly slid over her face. She sputtered and bolted upright – to find Karnwyr grinning at her.

"What do you think you're doing, mangy cur?", she said, spitting out and wiping slobber from her face.

Her gaze fell on Bishop, sitting on his bedroll, chewing on a pie, not looking at her.

_So, now he even sends Karnwyr to wake me up?_

Still sulking, it seemed. Well, let him. She did not care. She patted Karnwyr's head and started to dig in her backpack for one of her own pies. Maybe they tasted better in the morning.

They didn't, not really. She kept throwing glances under her lashes at Bishop while chewing on a piece of pie that seemed to be getting constantly larger in her mouth. He still sat, looking at the ground, showing no signs of relenting.

_So what? I don't even_ want _to talk to him._

She swallowed the last bit of her pie, got up and started to pack her stuff. Suddenly, something landed next to her on the ground with a flopping noise. It was a leather bag, flat, approximately scroll sized, attached to a narrow belt with a small buckle at the front. She took it, feeling the leather between her fingers. It was very soft and very thin. The bag was sewed with a thin, shimmering thread, the stitches narrow and evenly spaced. It was beautiful.

She looked up, meeting Bishop's eyes.

"I bought the leather at the Gilded Horseshoe and made that bag last night. It's for the scroll, as promised. You can wear it under your clothes, and probably no one will find it if we get caught again. Besides, it won't scratch anymore."

With that, he turned and started packing, too.

Lana looked at the bag in her hands and felt even worse than before. She had treated him really bad, and he still made her this?

Damn him! Why did he do it? It was deliberate, it must be! He just did it so she felt guilty!

And the worst thing was, it worked.

She swallowed and looked at his back in indecision.

_All right! I'll try one more time, but that's it!_

She took the – admittedly – scratching scroll out from under her shirt and tried to smooth it out. It had suffered a little already and was wrinkled, the edges starting to fray. Carrying it in the bag would be so much better.

She put it inside, and the scroll of Resurrection as well. Then she buckled the belt around her waist. If she kept down on her hips, she could wear the bag under her breeches, with no one the wiser.

When she was finished, she peered over at Bishop, who was covering the fireplace with sand.

_Come on, you can do it._

She swallowed. Well then, no use in wasting time, was there? She went over to him, stopping a step or two away.

He stood up and looked at her, an eyebrow cocked.

"Thanks for the bag", she said nonchalantly.

_See, that wasn't so difficult._

But he just shrugged and turned away without a word.

She could feel herself starting to seethe. Who the hells did he think he was? She'd tried, _two_ times now, and he _dared_ to ignore her?

"Damn you, stop that!" she yelled.

He whirled round, facing her again. "Stop what?", he asked, calmly, but his eyes had narrowed a bit.

"You know damn well what! I've got it up to here", she made a chopping motion at the height of her chin, "with your attitude!"

_"You've_ got enough of _my_ attitude?", he answered, his voice raised as well. "Don't make me laugh! Ever listened to yourself?"

She took a step nearer, her eyes glaring daggers at him. "I tried to be nice to you! But really, bugger that, I'm done trying! If you want it that way, fine!"

_"Nice?_ You call that nice? That some kind of joke? All I've had from you is yelling, threats and insults! If that is nice, I pray I'll never see your bad side!"

"Well, you damn well are going to see it, if you go on like that!" She took another step to him and started to poke him in the chest with her finger. "I've had about enough of you, Mister! I'm so fed up with you, I think if I have to bear you a minute longer, I'm going to heave!"

He swatted her hand away forcefully. "Well, you won't have to bear me any longer, because I'm off! Good riddance, I say! Getting my memory back is really not worth it!"

"Go on, shove off! You think I care? The sooner I'm rid of you, the better!"

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Fine!"

"Fine!", she answered, hands on her hips.

They stood, glaring at each other, while Karnwyr watched them from a few yards away, his ears flattened next to his neck, whining softly.

After some seconds, Lana saw Bishop's lips twitch slightly.

She tried to repress it, but could not stop a mixture between a snort and a giggle escape her.

They stared at each other for a few seconds longer, and broke into helpless laughter.

"Look, I'm sorry", she wheezed, when she could talk again, wiping the tears out of her eyes. "I really did not mean to say those things to you. It's simply that... sometimes, when I don't know what to do... I just bitch."

His lips twitched again. "No kidding."

"Fine, go on, laugh at me. But I _tried_ to apologise, you know?"

"And I should have accepted." He looked away. "I'm sorry for what I just said, too, alright? Mostly you've been nice, trying to help me. What I said was unfair, so I apologise, as well."

"Guess we're even then?"

His eyes reverted to her, and he smiled slightly. "Guess so. About the other stuff I said... just forget I mentioned it, ok? I won't bring it up again."

It was her time to look away, but she nodded, wordlessly.

"Let's get going, then", he said, and went back to packing his things.

xxx

They made their way through the woods in silence once more, Bishop walking a few steps ahead of her and Karnwyr bouncing around wildly as usual. But the silence was not as hostile as it had been the day before. From time to time, Bishop turned to check on her, and sometimes he even smiled.

Lana found herself returning his smiles. She was more relieved than she cared to admit that the mood between them had lightened. Somehow, not even the undergrowth snagging at her clothes could dampen her humour today.

She watched Bishop weaving through the trees and bushes nearly without causing a ripple in the leaves and again felt admiration at his skill. Constantly having to untangle herself from clinging twigs or flinching at the sound of fallen branches snapping under her feet she wondered how he did it, feeling like the proverbial bull in the china shop.

_It's like the damned vegetables make room for him to pass._

_And hop back into my way immediately after._

But today, not even that could get her temper to rise. She was just too happy that their fight seemed to be over.

_So, why do you care so much?_

_Because it was damn uncomfortable, that's why._

Karnwyr came bounding up to her, panting happily. The wolf seemed as relieved as she was that the air had cleared. Lana scratched his ears, smiled at him and continued to follow his master through the woods.

xxx

Come evening, Bishop found them a nice spot at a brook to camp, and Lana walked a short distance away to grab the opportunity to clean herself up a bit. She shivered while washing with the cold water.

"Still preferring a hot bath in a comfortable inn", she told Karnwyr, who was by her side again.

When she was as reasonably clean as she could get, she returned to the camp to find a fire crackling.

"I'll go and get clean myself", Bishop said to her, standing up from the fire and stretching. "And then I'll take first watch."

She smiled and nodded, and he turned away into the growing dusk, leaving Karnwyr to keep her company as always. She dug into her backpack, getting out the last of the pies from the Gilded Horseshoe. She actually felt hungry again.

Taking a big bite, she found the pie to be delicious, if a bit stale after two days in her backpack.

_Wonder why the other two were so bland?_

As she lay down on her blankets, Karnwyr came snuggling up at her. Absentmindedly, she stroked his thick fur, staring up into the dark and starry sky, thinking about what they were going to do.

_I sure hope I'm right about this._

She was anything but an expert on arcane magic. But as far as she knew, a Geas was a spell that worked very literally.

Garius had told Bishop he had to bring _him_ back. What did that mean? He, Garius, had been a human. But when he had cast the spell on Bishop, he had been turned into a Shadow Reaver already. Did that mean they had to bring the Shadow Reaver back?

On the other hand, as the fact that their true names still had power over them proved, there was enough of whatever the Shadow Reavers had been before left in them. So they had not changed completely. And what change there was, it was the doing of their master, the King of Shadows, not their own.

So the conclusion she came to was that in the end, the true being of Garius was still his human version, even if he had been turned into a Shadow Reaver. If she was right, the Resurrection would work, and Bishop should get his memory back.

If she was wrong, what could happen? Best case, the Resurrection would not work, because there was no connection anymore between the mortal remains of Garius and whatever passed for his soul. Worst case, the Resurrection would work, but the Geas would not be triggered and Bishop would not regain his memories. And they would have to deal with a mighty cranky Master of the Fifth Tower.

Should not be too hard, though, she hoped, even if there were only the two of them. Three, if you counted Karnwyr. The Resurrection would bring Garius back fresh as the morning, not weakened in any way, but hopefully he still would need rest to recover the use of his spells. They just would have to see to it he did not get that rest.

If he returned with full use of his spells... they would be in very deep shit indeed.

Lana flinched as a shadow fell over her, interrupting her thoughts. She had not heard the ranger approaching, as usual.

_Damn his sneakiness._

He bent down, stroking Karwyr's head, who gave him one of his wolf grins. "Sleep well", Bishop said, sitting down next to the fire. "I'll wake you for second watch."

xxx

That night, she had the dream again.

It had been some time now since she last had it. Maybe that meant she was getting better, since initially, it would haunt her every night, and she would wake up screaming, shivering, and crying, not able to calm down for a considerate time, until she feared going to sleep at all, staying up night after night, until she fell down, more unconscious than asleep, out of sheer exhaustion. And the dream would be back.

Gradually, it had afflicted her less and less, at first leaving her one night of more or less undisturbed sleep, then two, then three... until she sometimes had a week until it was back. Or two weeks.

But sooner or later, infallibly, it would be back to bite her in the butt.

She dreamed she was frantically hacking away with the Sword of Gith at the Statues of Purification while her companions threw themselves at the King of Shadows, trying to keep him away from her, to gain her time for what she had to do. She heard the crackling of magic as Sand cast his spells, felt the surge of power so similar to her own coming from Ammon, heard the voice of Zhjaeve over the din of battle, invoking the power of Zhertimon or whoever she prayed to, heard the clanging and clashing of weapons and armour as Khelgar and Casavir threw themselves bodily at an undefeatable foe. She heard the singing of Grobnar, and the twanging of Neeshka's bow, because the tiefling preferred to keep her distance from an enemy she could not hurt with her twin rapiers.

Lana could not hear Qara's whining voice. The sorceress had been silenced forever, after she decided to throw in her lot with Garius. Not a wise choice, as anyone who actually used their brains from time to time would have known. But Lana had not really been surprised at the harebrained decision of the girl. Because while she certainly did not lack in power, her intellectual capacities had not been something to admire. Her seemingly limitless arrogance had stood in the way. Now she was dead, killed along with her new master-for-a-very-short-time. Lana could not really bring herself to feel sorry for that. The brat had been much too annoying to grow on her.

And while she certainly could excuse a fiery temper – having to admit to one herself – she could not say the same for sheer stupidity. Hence she had no qualms about dishing out what the girl had asked for with her defection.

All these thoughts whirled through her head wildly while she continued to hack down statue after statue, gritting her teeth, trying to ignore the cries of pain from her friends, being cast through the room while they kept throwing themselves into the way of the King of Shadows as he tried to get to her, to keep her from chopping down the statues he drew his power from. As the last one of the statues fell, the Shadow let out an anguished screech, falling down... and dissipated.

Panting heavily, she looked around, not yet daring to hope it was over. She could see Khelgar, lying on the ground, bleeding profoundly – but already he was grumbling, swearing under his breath, getting to his feet again. She could see Sand, looking more or less unharmed, muttering under his breath, casting another spell of Stone Skin on himself, just to be on the safe side. She could see Grobnar, bouncing around excitedly, singing "The Shadow King is dead" on top of his voice. Ammon was picking himself up from the floor, dusting his clothes.

She also could see Zhjaeve's still form, lying next to the wall, not moving. And she could see Neeshka, in a heap on the floor.

_Oh no... not Neeshka..._

She could feel pain gripping her heart at the loss of her friend, while she still searched for the one face she worried most for. To her relief, he stepped in front of her, his armour dented and anything but shiny now. He was bleeding from several claw marks the fiend had left behind – but there was a tender smile on his face.

She threw herself into his arms, standing up to the tips of her toes, because he was so much taller than her, kissing him fiercely. She was so happy he was alive... he was the one whose death she would not have been able to bear at all.

She could feel him smile against her lips while he returned her kiss. "We made it", he murmured into her mouth.

She opened her eyes again and smiled up at him... and saw the Shadow forming behind his back.

Her eyes went wide and she was so shocked, she was not able to move or to call – and it all happened so fast. He looked into her face seeing the shock there, and realisation dawned in his eyes as he forcefully shoved her backwards, sending her sprawling on the ground in the exact moment the claws ripped his body from behind, piercing him completely and exiting on the front of his chest where they surely would have hurt her as well, had he not pushed her back.

She stared up into his suddenly pallid face while the claws ripped upwards through him, barely registering the shocked cries of her friends around her. Casavir looked down at her with a tenderness that made her heart break.

_I love you,_ he mouthed. Then the light went out of his eyes.

"Nooooooo!", she yelled, jumping to her feet, the pain ripping through her like the claws of the beast had ripped through Casavir, throwing herself forward in desperation while Khelgar's strong hands gripped her from behind, holding her back, his voice grumbling something she could not even begin to understand.

"Let me go", she cried, hot tears streaming down her face, fighting against the dwarf's iron grip. "Let me go to him..."

"Lana!" A voice pierced her consciousness. "Wake up! It's just a dream!"

She still fought against the steely grip that held her back. "Let me go to him", she pleaded, opening her eyes...

...to see Bishop's face looming over her. To find it were his hands on her shoulder, trying to keep her down, she was fighting against.

_What is he doing here? He left when we faced Garius, he did not fight with us..._

Then her eyes registered the shine of the fire, the twinkling stars above her, the dark shadows of the trees surrounding them.

_Sky? Trees? But we were underground..._

Slowly her brain returned to the present, shaking the remnants of the dream that still held her in its grip.

Right. She was not underground anymore. She was in the woods with Bishop. The fight with the King of Shadows was over and done. And Casavir had been dead for more than six months.

As Bishop released her shoulders she sat up, feeling her lower lip start to tremble while she tried to control the anguish that rose in her, the despair that was her constant companion since the moment she saw Casavir die after he saved her life.

"It's all right", Bishop murmured softly, tenderly wiping away the stains of the tears on her face. "It was only a dream.

_It's not all right – it will never be all right again._

And finally, the dam in her broke. She just could not take it anymore. Sobbing, she collapsed on Bishop's chest, his arms going around her, rocking her like a child, while she cried all the tears she had kept down for so long.


	12. Forget

After a seemingly endless time of crying there simply seemed no more tears left to cry. Lana continued to heave dry sobs, her body shaking, clinging to Bishop, her face buried in his chest. It still hurt so much.

Bishop continued to hold her, stroking her hair, murmuring soothing nonsense into her ear.

_Oh gods, it hurts._

And suddenly, she just could not take it any more. She only wanted the hurting to stop, if only for a while. Wanted to forget.

She lifted her head, blinking the tears out of her eyes. Bishop looked down at her, a concerned expression on his face.

"Are you..." he started, but the sentence ended in a surprised "hmmmph" sort of noise when she pressed her mouth to his. He drew back, staring at her with wide, uncertain eyes.

She reached out with a shaking hand, grabbing his neck, trying to pull him to her. "Please", she whispered.

The uncertainty vanished from his eyes. He lowered her to her blankets, following her down, starting to cover her face with soft kisses, kissing away the tears. He stretched next to her, drawing her close, his hand tangling in her hair, stroking her neck, while his mouth found hers for a tender kiss.

Impatiently, she started ripping at his clothes and heard him inhale sharply, but he complied, shaking off his clothing and then slowly, hesitatingly he started to undress her as well. Not able to stand the slowness, she quickly discarded her clothes as well, then drew him back to her. He kissed her again while his hands softly, lovingly began to explore her body. She could not bear it.

Casavir hat been that gentle, that tender.

She gripped the soft hair in his neck roughly, burying her teeth in his lip. He gasped in surprise and tried to draw back, but she did not let go of his hair, holding him fast, her eyes firmly closed so that she would not have to look at him.

"Don't", she said hoarsely. "Don't be soft. Make me forget. Please. I want to forget."

She felt him go rigid for a second, but then his mouth was back on hers with a bruising kiss. She moaned and opened her lips under his and his tongue tangled with hers for a moment while his body pressed her into the ground. Then his mouth wandered down and she could feel him everywhere, licking and sucking and biting, and there was nothing gentle about it anymore.

Gradually, thoughts and memories fled her mind, as she writhed under him. Then he slid upwards again, and she was ready for him, crying out hoarsely as he started moving in her, but it still was not enough.

She dug her nails into his back. "Harder", she gasped. "Please..."

He growled into her ear, a feral noise that sent goose bumps down her back, and increased his speed and force until she could not think anymore, there was nothing but the feel of his body, and her mind went blissfully blank. She cried out, clinging to him, urging him on, until he shuddered and called her name and collapsed onto her.

She lay still, his body pressing her down, and she was still breathing heavily and just enjoying the tingle left behind, the peace she found in her mind for a while. Somewhere deep down she knew that soon, the quiet would dissipate and there would be hell to pay for the short moment of respite, but for now, she could not bring herself to care. She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the feel of his weight on her, hearing his ragged breathing growing steady gradually, his scent enveloping her like a warm blanket.

All too soon he moved, rolling to his side, his hand reaching out, touching her face. She stubbornly kept her eyes closed, but could not keep her body from tensing as her mind started working again, processing the enormity of what she had just done.

"Care to tell me what exactly you wanted me to make you forget?", his soft voice reached her ear.

She just shook her head, still not looking at him. There it was, the tidal wave of guilt she had been waiting for, rising over her head.

_I've betrayed Casavir._

She had not thought there were any tears left in her, but sure as hell, there they were, starting to sting her eyes.

"Hey", he said. "You just used me to chase away some ghost. I'm not complaining, mind you, but I would like to know what that was about." She felt his hand gently running over her cheek. "Besides", he continued, his voice gentle, "I somehow think it is time you talked about it."

His hand grabbed her chin, turning her face to him. "Look at me", he said, and when she reluctantly opened her eyes, she found him looking at her with a tenderness that made even more tears well up in her eyes. "Tell me", he insisted.

She closed her eyes again. "Casavir", she choked out.

His hand let go of her chin, cupping her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. "Tell me about him", he said.

_Right. He doesn't remember..._

She did not want to talk about it, she had buried it all inside for so long... but she guessed he was right, maybe he had a right to know, after what she had done.

But she would not look at him while she talked. So she buried her face in his chest, and his arms went around her. She could hear his heart beating strongly and steadily under her ear.

_So quickly a life can be ended..._

"He was one of our companions... one of those who stood with me against the King of Shadows", she said, her lips grazing Bishop's skin as she talked. "He was a paladin, a good man... and I loved him. Love him."

"Did he love you, too?", he asked.

She just nodded, still not raising her head.

"What happened?", he said, softly.

She repressed a sob. "He died", she said, her voice strangled. "In the battle against the King of Shadows. He died, while he saved my life, shoving me out of harm's way. I watched his face as he was killed, watched him die, and I could do nothing. His last words were that he loved me..." Her voice broke, and she could not help but start crying again.

He stroked her hair, saying nothing, until she calmed a bit.

"That's why I ran away from the Keep. I could not stand the memories in that place. And now... I have cheated on him", she concluded, her voice still shaking. "I have betrayed his memory. I will never forgive myself."

Bishop grabbed her chin again and forced her to look up. "Nonsense!", he said, firmly. "Don't even think that! You said he saved your life, that he kept you from being hurt. That means he wanted you to live, don't you think? He wanted you to go on living. The only way to betray his memory is to let yourself be dead, too. That would be spitting on his sacrifice. To honour him, go on with your life, keep up his memory, keep him in your heart, but live!"

She narrowed her eyes in sudden anger. "Oh yes?", she hissed. "And I guess the next thing you will tell me is that you're just the right man to go on living with, wolf boy? Well, forget it, and can the preaching!"

She saw his eyes shut down, saw him withdraw without moving a muscle. "I'm going to say nothing of the sort", he said, coolly. "I know very well I was just... available. And since I have served my purpose, it seems, I will not bother you any longer." He started to move back, his body tensing as he prepared to get up.

Her anger dissipated as quick as it has risen, and she grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry", she said, ruefully. "It's just..." The damned tears started to rise again and she swallowed them down.

_Hells, I'm turning into a watering pot!_

"It just hurts so much", she said softly.

He relaxed, his hand running through her hair, but he did not draw nearer again. "I know", he said. "But I don't think he would want you to be alone for the rest of your life. Not if he truly loved you."

She felt a spark of amusement despite of the pain in her heart, and the corner of her mouth curled up in a crooked smile.

"What?", he asked. "Did I say something funny?"

"No, not really. And maybe, if I think about it, there is some truth in what you say. Maybe he would not want me to be alone... but I think he would prefer to see me die an old maid before he would see me with you."

His crooked smile echoed hers. "I guess he did not like me much?"

Her smile broadened a bit, her mind in the past. "You hated each other's guts.", she said. "The feeling was quite mutual."

"Figures", he said, "after what you told me. But somehow I think I would like him now."

Her gaze returned to his face, searching. "Yes", she said slowly. "I think you would. And I think...", she swallowed. "I think he would like you, too.", she concluded her sentence, softly.

She lay back, staring up into the sky, deep in thoughts.

His hand stroked her cheek again. "Get some sleep", he said, gently.

She turned her head to look at him. "You'll have to leave, then."

He shook his head. "Let me stay. Karnwyr will watch. You've been there for me when I had that nightmare. I only want to be there for you, too. Just let me hold you. As a friend. Nothing more, I promise."

She mulled that over for a while. It was tempting. Now, after she had finally let the pain out, it felt good to be held, to be comforted. She sighed.

_Just this once, I don't want to be strong._

So she snuggled up into his arm, into his warmth. "Friends", she murmured, closing her eyes.

xxx

Lana woke the following morning in the comfortable warmth of a pair of arms wrapped around her and a body pressed against hers. A body that was very happy to be there.

For a moment she groped through the remnants of the sleepy haze in her brain, then the memory of the previous night came rushing back. She blushed crimson.

_Oh, friggin' hells!_

Last night, shaken from her dream, and later from the memories talking about Casavir had brought, she did not think of feeling embarrassed about the way she had jumped Bishop.

Now, in the bright light of the new morning, her brain back to working normally, snuggled up stark naked against his equally naked body, she remembered she should feel embarrassed. Oh boy, did she remember.

She squeaked and hopped up, frantically collecting and throwing on her scattered clothes. A rustling sound told her Bishop had risen to a sitting position.

"What are you waiting for? Get dressed already, wolf boy!", she growled, carefully avoiding to look at him, averting her still glowing face. "And don't get any funny ideas because I felt weak last night, savvy? I'm still not interested!"

She heard him sigh and get up. "Guess I should have seen this coming", he murmured. "I really wonder why I feel surprised."

_Bane's blood!_

Great. Now she could feel guilty not only for turning on Casavir last night, but for being bitchy to Bishop the morning after as well. In addition, there still was the shame for acting all whore-y and practically assaulting him when he tried to comfort her.

_Fantastic. Let's heap it on Lana, why don't you?_

"Oh, quit whining", she snapped, the fact that somewhere inside she knew perfectly well she was being unfair only adding to her anger. "You've got what you wanted, and now, can we please just be on our way? I really don't want to yammer about it any longer!"

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw him shake his head. "You really are a piece of work", he said and started to collect his clothes.

As soon as he was away, she sullenly began packing her stuff, rolling up her blankets. They still smelled of Bishop – and the activities of last night.

_Argh._

Looking up, she found Karnwyr staring at her, an unusually solemn expression in his eyes.  
"What are you staring at, furry?", she snarled.

His ears twitched, and he gave her a last haughty glance before he turned and stalked away.

_Stupid cur!_

xxx

The morning found her trudging mutely after Bishop again. She kept avoiding his gaze when he turned, and he did not try to talk to her. And of course, after her temper had cooled down some, she had to admit to herself that it was her fault. Once more.

_Blazing hells, why is he always in the right?_

It was a downright annoying habit of his. She eyed his back with misgivings.

_Do I have to apologise? Again?_

She sighed. Seemed like she had to.

_Damn._

She chewed on the words she would have to say, stomping after him through the cursed thickets he loved to crawl through.

_Probably because they never seem to snag his clothes!_

The prospect alone of having to apologise _again_ was enough to get her temper rising. She gritted her teeth, forcing the anger down. She would not lose her temper and create _another_ situation she would have to apologise for. She would not.

Before her, Bishop took off his backpack and sat down, his back to a tree. He got out his water skin and took a long swig. Karnwyr stretched next to him on the ground, looking up at his master, panting. Bishop let some water flow into his cupped hand and offered it to the wolf, who lapped it up greedily.

Lana sat down a couple of yards away, and drank some water as well, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Blasted heat. She peered at Bishop under her lashes and found him looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

_So, what are you waiting for?_

_Ummm… for the earth to open up and swallow me, so I don't have to do this?_

Calling herself a coward, she took a deep breath – and found herself at a loss for words.

_How does one apologise for totally losing one's temper for the third time in two days?_

Maybe she could just pretend it never happened and wait until he stopped sulking all by himself.

_Oh yes, very brave, that. And it could take a while._

She sighed again. Fine, then. She could do this.

"I was unfair", she mumbled, staring down at the water skin in her hand. "Sorry."

She heard him chuckle and looked up.

"I'm starting not to take it personally", he said, winking at her.

"I was… I was just embarrassed", she said, blushing slightly. "It's not my habit to jump someone's bones like that."

"Don't worry", he answered, a wolfish grin appearing on his face and his voice had a purring undertone that somehow brought to mind the old Bishop and his constant innuendo. Lana felt a shiver run down her spine. "I don't mind. That was the best night I've had for six months. At least."

Lana could feel the blush deepen to crimson. Damn him!

_That's what I get for apologising._

She glared at him, but he just laughed. "Couldn't resist", he said, in his normal voice.

Lana threw her water skin at him. It would have caught him squarely in the face if he had not ducked so quickly.


	13. Friends

When evening fell and they found a spot to camp for the night, Lana had to admit she felt glad they weren’t at odds anymore.

_Just glaring at each other silently is too damn uncomfortable._

Not that they were talking much as it was, but this kind of silence she did not mind. She smiled at Bishop when he handed her a piece of the game he had shot earlier. Her stomach growled as she bit into the tender, juicy meat.

Karnwyr whined and put his head onto her knee. She patted his head and handed him a morsel, which he gorged down in no time. Somehow she was relieved the wolf was not cross with her anymore, too.

_You’re off your rockers, if you start caring what furry thinks of you._

“You’re spoiling his table manners”, Bishop’s disapproving voice reached her ear.

She grinned at him. “I’m doing it for your sake, because it must be so embarrassing that he’s got better manners than you. This way, the contrast will be less striking.”

He chuckled and snapped his fingers. Karnwyr got up and went over to the ranger, lying down at the side of his master.

“Guess I’ll have to keep him away from you, then”, Bishop said and bit into his own piece of game.

A large paw came to rest on his knee, and the wolf looked up at him imploringly.

“What are you, a lapdog?”, the ranger said, disgusted. “Go find your own, spoiled cur. Or at least wait until we are finished.”

Karnwyr got up, shook himself, so that hair coming loose from his pelt rained all over Bishop and his meal. Then the wolf jumped away, turned back once to grin at his cursing master, and disappeared into the dark.

“I can’t believe he just did that!”, Bishop said, regarding his hairy meat with misgivings.

Lana was laughing so hard she nearly fell over. “Guess that will be his piece in the end”, she wheezed.

Grumbling, Bishop helped himself to another piece of game, but Lana could see the twinkle in his eyes.

xxx

Lana was frantically hacking away at the statue in front of her. Behind her, there was the clashing of weapons, the clanking of armour, the sizzle of magic, the twanging of bows and the cries of pain.

 _I have to be faster! Every second might cost a life... why won’t this damn thing_ break?

She cursed, sweat beading on her forehead, while she brought the sword down on the statue. Another crack in the stone, but still it would not fall.

She let out a frustrated yell, fear for her friends heavy in her chest, when hands grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

_What...?_

The sound of the battle vanished and was replaced by the chirping of crickets and the sound of the wind rustling leaves. Lana opened her eyes to find Bishop’s face looming above her with a concerned expression. She blinked and tried to shake the fog that seemed to surround her mind.

“You were moaning and tossing in your sleep. Was it the dream again?”, Bishop asked.

_Dream...?_

And suddenly, she was back in the present. Oh yes, the dream. She was in the woods with Bishop. And the dream had found her two nights in a row. It had been a long time since it had plagued her that often. She shivered.

_Please, gods, I don’t want to dream anymore. I can’t stand to watch him die, over and over again... please, make it stop._

The shivering increased, and she could not stop it. She felt Bishop’s arms go around her, holding her against his body, stroking her hair. He said nothing, just held her, and she closed her eyes, leaning against his chest, feeling his warmth seep through the chill that always gripped her during the dream. The shivering abated a bit.

“Yes”, she said hoarsely, her voice muffled against his chest. “It was the dream again. Thanks for waking me up before... it got really bad.”

His fingers stroked the tender skin of her neck. “Shall I stay?”, he asked softly.

She looked up at him, searching his face, but found nothing but concern there.

“No ulterior motives, I promise”, he said with a slight smile, as if he had read her thoughts. 

She stared at him for a few seconds more, then lay back onto her sleeping mat. “Yes”, she whispered. “Please stay.”

It just felt too good to be held. She had had to be strong for so long. She was tired of it. After all that time, the warmth and comfort she was offered was hard to resist. Even if it was only Bishop.

He lay down next to her and drew her back at his chest, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Are you going to bite my nose off again tomorrow?”, he asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

“If you behave yourself, I’ll try not to”, she answered, a smile on her face as well. “But I’m not making any promises.”

Lana could hear laughter rumbling in his chest. “I would not have believed you anyway”, he said. Settling down, his face came to rest against her hair. “Go back to sleep”, he said.

She snuggled up at him, closing her eyes. Oh yes, it felt so good.

Soon, she found sleep tugging at her again, feeling safe and warm in his arms. And the dream did not come back that night.

When she woke, she opened her eyes to find herself looking into Bishop’s face, his honey coloured eyes regarding her with a smile. 

“Sleep better?”, he asked.

She yawned and smiled at him. “Yes”, she said. “Much better. Thank you for being there.”

He pressed a kiss on her forehead, sat up and stretched. He got up, holding out his hand to her to help her to her feet as well.

“Don’t thank me”, he said. “Isn’t that what friends are there for?”

She stared up at him, his handsome face with the perpetual stubble that gave him a somewhat roguish look, his short, messy mahogany hair, his soft mouth and his strange, beautiful eyes. It somehow was as if she saw him, really saw him, for the first time.

_Friends?_

She smiled at him, took his hand and let him draw her to her feet. “Yes”, she answered, her voice soft. “That’s what friends are for.”

_Friends._

Now, how did that happen?

xxx

The next two nights, Bishop just put his blankets next to hers and drew her to him without even asking. Lana debated with herself whether or not to chase him off, but in the end gave in to her own weakness.

She wanted to be held. She wanted to be comforted. So what the hell. And she did not want to dream anymore. If being cuddled held the dream at bay, screw morals.

And Bishop, true to his word, did not do anything else but hold her.

The second morning, Lana woke up first. She opened her eyes and looked at his face, so close to hers. His eyes were closed, his features relaxed and peaceful in his sleep. Lying on his side, one arm was under his head like a cushion, the other draped over her waist.

She felt the strange urge to let her hand glide over the inevitable stubble on his cheeks.

Lana mentally shook herself. What was that about?

His eyes opened, even lighter than usual after sleep, more yellow than their normal amber. Looking more like wolf eyes than ever. He smiled at her.

“You tensed”, he said. “It woke me. Everything ok?”

_Hells, always alert, is he?_

“We’re going to reach Crossroad Keep today”, she said, avoiding his question. “Aren’t you nervous?”

He sat up, his fingers running through his short, soft hair.

“Yes”, he said, averting his eyes. “I am. No, if I’m honest, it’s more than that. I’m afraid.”

She sat up, too, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Afraid of Garius?”, she asked.

He shrugged. “What I know of him, he was a dangerously powerful wizard. I would have to be mad not to fear him.” He faltered, then continued, his voice low. “But that’s not it. I wanted my memories back. But now...”

He turned his head to look at her and she could see the unease in his eyes. “I’m afraid of what I will remember. You have told me some pretty bad things. But what if there is more? Things you don’t know, can’t tell me about? Things so bad I won’t be able to handle them?”

She thought about that for a moment. He had a point. There probably was more. He never had been very forthcoming about his past, but that other ranger, Malin, had hinted at some pretty bad things. Hells only knew what else he might have done. 

“We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to”, she said. “It’s your decision. You can leave your past behind, completely, have a fresh start. Maybe it’s more a chance than a curse?”

He stared at her, then grinned. “Now, _you’re_ scaring me”, he said. “So wise all of a sudden? Who are you, and what have you done with Lana?”

She punched him on the arm, but had to grin as well. “Stop making fun of me. I _can_ think, if I try really hard, you know?”

He shook his head. “You’re just full of surprises.”

She stuck out her tongue at him, and he grinned again, but the mirth fled his eyes quickly.

“No”, he said, serious again. “I have to do this. After what you told me, there might be any number of old enemies waiting around, just hoping to see me again. Look what happened with Jaluth, only because I did not know I better avoid Luskans. If I stumble over any of them, I better recognise who they are. Plus, if Jaluth is still on my heels, and she did not seem the type to give up easily, anything I remember about her might help. Not remembering my past is just too dangerous.” He paused. “But I’m still afraid of what I’ll find”, he concluded, his voice barely audible. 

Her hand slipped into his and squeezed it. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it”, she said.

He looked into her face. “We?”, he asked.

Lana nodded. “Yes, we”, she said, smiling at him. “I’ll help you deal. I’ll be there. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Bishop smiled back, and it seemed to light up his whole face. “Yes”, he said. “We’re friends.”

xxx

Late afternoon found Lana and Bishop looking at the walls of Crossroad Keep, looming in the distance. Maybe two more hours to go.

The sight made Lana’s heart wrench for so many reasons. First, there were all the memories the place held. Memories of happy times, even with the danger that loomed. Time spent with friends, laughing, planning, relaxing, fighting. And most of all, time spend with Casavir. Talking, cuddling, making love.

It still hurt. But somehow, the pain seemed to have lost a bit of its edge, was less sharp. More of a dull throbbing.

_Why is that?_

Had she started to deal with her pain? Was that it? Was she moving on? The thought held a pain of its own, and brought a wave of guilt. Did she want to move on? Leave Casavir behind? How could she live, when he had died? How could she even want _to live?_

_On top of that was the guilt she felt for deserting her post like she had done. Leaving all her duties behind. Leaving her friends behind, her friends that worried and cared for her, without even a word. Oh, she had left a note, but she did not have the balls to talk to them face to face. She had just fled. The coward’s way out._

_Too much guilt. She could not bear it. It was suffocating her. So she did what she did best: Turned it into anger. Staring ahead, she let the fury rise, fury at Garius, because somehow, she could not seem to get rid of the bastard. She had killed him twice, but still he came back to make her life difficult._

_This time, he forced her to come back to this place, forced her to face it again, to feel all that guilt._

__You just wait, you piece of shit. We’ll bring you back, and I will kill you again. Third time’s a charm. Let’s see if you can come back to hound me after that!_ _

_She turned to Bishop, who was staring ahead with fear and insecurity obvious on his face._

_“Don’t piss your pants, wolf boy”, she snarled. “The walls won’t bite. Let’s wait here for nightfall, I’m not keen on being seen hereabouts, and believe me, your face won’t earn you a warm welcome either. When it’s dark, we’ll get to the graves, raise that bastard Garius, kill him again, and be done with it.”_

_She plopped down and took her water skin, taking a long swig. Damned heat._

_Bishop looked at her with a what-bit-you-this-time expression, but wisely refrained from commenting. Instead, he sat down next to her, wordlessly, offering some water to Karnwyr before drinking himself._

_Lana glared ahead at the Keep, gnashing her teeth. Oh yes, a few hours staring at those walls, and she would be _just_ in the right mood to deal with Garius._

__

xxx

Time crept by at a snail’s pace as they sat in the shade of the last trees before the woods gave way to open land and fields. The hot fury Lana had felt had turned into a silent fuming as she kept gazing over the farmland that separated them from the Keep. Bishop had not said a single word, but sat with his back to a tree trunk, fletching some arrows. Karnwyr lay at his side, head on his paws, fast asleep.

_Will that blasted sun ever set?_

She willed the ball of light to travel the sky faster, willed it to sink to the horizon, swearing under her breath, but the sun seemed completely unimpressed as it continued its slow course over the afternoon sky.

Bishop kept throwing her glances as she sat, silently seething, her anger like a small dark storm cloud over head. She could have sworn she heard him snicker once or twice, but when she turned to snap at him, his face was absolutely neutral, with no trace of amusement, his eyes trained on the arrow he was working on.

So she was left with gnashing her teeth and cursing the sun, as he did not seem willing to offer her the opportunity to pour out the bowl of her wrath over his head.

At last, after what seemed days, but were only hours, the sky darkened and dusk was falling. Lana hopped up, immensely relieved that the waiting and inactivity were over.

“Let’s go”, she said briskly, “We have some hours to walk, so when we arrive, it will be fully dark.”

“And how will we get into the Keep, to the graves?”, Bishop asked.

She grinned at him, her anger dwindling now that she was not condemned to inactivity anymore. “You think we buried those bastards inside, in the graveyard? Hardly. We threw them in a hole outside, next to the walls of the Keep. So if we approach quietly, hopefully we will not be seen from the walls while we look for our dear friend Garius. There are some things I’d just _love_ to say to his face.” She cracked her knuckles.

He returned her grin. “If I were him, I would be shaking in my grave”, he said.

Carefully, they made their way across the darkening fields, approaching the Keep from the side where Lana knew the graves to be. They were unmarked, so they would have some digging to do, but she was confident she would be able to remember where they were pretty accurately.

They reached the foot of the walls seemingly without having been noticed. At least, no one had called out to them. Lana stepped close to Bishop, so he could hear her as she whispered: “The graves are here somewhere. Give me a moment, I will try to remember exactly where they are.”

Bishop grinned, his white teeth shimmering in the dark. “Don’t bother”, he whispered back. “Karnwyr will be able to smell them, won’t you, boy?” He patted the wolf’s head, who panted and looked up at his master adoringly.

Lana felt like smacking her forehead. “Of course”, she said quietly. “Do you think he will be able to smell which one is Garius’ grave, as well?”

“I don’t know”, the ranger answered. “Has he met him?”

Lana nodded. “He fought with us when we confronted Garius here in the Keep.”

“Then it should be no problem.” Bishop crouched down in front of his wolf, taking his face into his hands. “What do you think, cur?”

Karnwyr’s tongue lolled out and he seemed to grin. 

“Great”, Bishop said, scratching the wolf’s ears. “Then start earning your food, like a good little doggie.”

Karnwyr turned around so fast his tail caught Bishop across the face and bounded up to the walls, starting to sniff along them. Lana repressed a giggle while the ranger got back to his feet, sputtering.

“Maybe you should have given him that piece of game, after all”, she said.

After some moments, they saw Karnwyr bouncing excitedly up and down on a spot some yards away. The wolf did not make any noise. He really seemed more intelligent than a lot of people Lana had known. She and Bishop hurried over to where Karnwyr was waiting.

“That it?”, Bishop said, and Karnwyr panted. “You sure?”, the ranger asked again. “It would be bad if we used the scroll and raised the wrong person, you know?”

The wolf gave him what seemed a very haughty look and stalked away.

“He’s sure”, Bishop said to Lana.

She grinned. “This time, no translation was necessary”, she answered. Then she stared at the patch of ground at her feet, her amusement dissipating. “You ready to do this?”, she asked.

She heard him inhale sharply, and his hand snuck into hers, his fingers lacing with hers. “I’m ready”, he whispered.


	14. Geas

Lana gave Bishop's hand a last squeeze, then she let go. "Ok", she whispered. "First, we have to dig him up. We don't need much, I think, but we've got to have some piece of his body, a bone or something." She shuddered. "And let me add that this is very eeew."

"And how do we dig him up? I don't suppose you brought a shovel?"

"Of course", she answered bitingly. "I always carry a shovel with me, in case I need to dig up some dead. You never know when you have to defile a grave. What do you think, wolf boy? Just use your hands, your memories should be worth breaking a nail over!"

"How about your pretty nails?", he said, grinning at her.

"Oh, I am devastated, but I'll have to miss out on the fun. I will sit here, and make myself familiar with the spell. We have only the one scroll, and we would not want me to miscast that, would we?"

"Me digging alone with just my hands will take a good while."

Lana shrugged. "Why don't you ask furface to help? Aren't dogs supposed to be enthusiastic about digging up old bones?"

Karnwyr came up behind her, passing her by, nudging his body hard into the back of her knees in the process. Lana found her butt hitting the ground, while Karnwyr started burrowing into the earth on the spot he identified as Garius' grave. Bishop grinned down on her.

"He does not appreciate being called a dog. I thought you could tell by his reaction when I did it." With that he turned and went over to the wolf, to help digging.

Lana glared after them. "That's the thanks I get", she said to herself. She pulled the leather bag out of her breeches and took the Resurrection scroll. Then she diligently put the bag, now containing only the Teleport scroll, back under her clothing. She smoothed out the parchment in her hand as much as possible and started reading the inscription by the fortunately bright light of the moon.

Soon, she noticed Karnwyr plodding up to her. He opened his muzzle and let something fall into her lap. Lana looked down and saw it was a finger, the flesh grey and moldy, shrivelled, bones peeking out, the nail yellow, looking more like a claw. Some maggots were having a feast on what was left of the flesh. And it _stank_.

She barely repressed a squeak as she hopped to her feet, frantically patting on her clothes to get the disgusting thing off herself. Shivers ran down her spine and her body was covered in goose bumps as she fought the revulsion that threatened to turn her stomach.

"Eeeew, eeeew, eeeeew, eeeew!", she uttered under her breath. When the offending object hit the ground with a little flopping noise that twisted her stomach once more, she turned to Karnwyr, sitting and watching her with a mien of utter innocence.

"You...", she said quietly, but threateningly.

"Should not have called him a dog", grinned Bishop, approaching.

"And you!", she hissed. "Letting him do that! You're lucky I can't yell properly here, but this is not over, I promise! I'll make you regret that as soon as we're away from here. And stop grinning at me, you stupid mutt!", she added in Karnwyr's direction.

Bishop made a choking noise as he suppressed his laughter. Lana inhaled deeply, mustering all the patience she could gather, which was not much at the best of times. She waved the parchment in front of Bishop's eyes.

"Are we going to do this or not?"

That shut him up. His laughter stopping abruptly, he swallowed. "We are.", he said, quietly.

"Fine, then try not to act like an idiot. This is going to be dangerous. We don't know how much of his power Garius used before he died. He is going to come back with all the spells he still had prepared at the time of his death. And something tells me he will be willing to use them. So we should be prepared for a hard battle. Keep yourself ready while I invoke the spell, and stop making childish jokes at my expense! Can you manage that, or is it too much to ask?"

"Fine, I'm sorry. I was just nervous." He sighed. "Let's get this over with."

_For once, it is not me apologising. That's kind of nice for a change._

"Here we go", she muttered, lifting the scroll to her face, starting to chant the words, as quietly as she could, while Bishop made his weapons ready.

As the strange incantation rolled from her lips, the disgusting piece of flesh and bone on the ground started to glow in a soft white light. She could see it grow, stretch, elongate. A hand formed, then an arm, a torso, the head and the other arm, the legs, until a complete body lay at her feet, looking healthy and fresh. The familiar hated face under the bald scalp looked peaceful with the eyes shut, as if the Master of the Fifth Tower was merely asleep.

With the last word of the spell, Garius coughed, his eyes flew open, and he sat up, sucking in a deep breath. He looked dazed and disoriented as he coughed once more, his hands gripping at his chest.

_And he's naked – they should fix that in that spell! Eeeew again!_

Preparing herself for battle, Lana reached out to her own powers as her eyes went to Bishop, who stood behind the freshly risen mage, looking frozen to the spot. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, she saw him shake himself like a dog, and his eyes went to the man at his feet, the corners of his mouth twisting downwards in disdain.

"Garius!", Bishop said sweetly. "I remember you leaving me a farewell present. Please allow me to return the favour. I would hate to fall short." With that, the ranger let go of one of his scimitars, grabbed the mage's forehead with his free hand as the man was still trying to get his bearings, pulled his head back and slit his throat in one swift motion. Then he let go and stepped back, looking down at the mage with a sneer on his face.

Garius made a gurgling noise, his hands going to his throat, his eyes wide. Then he sank back, his eyes dimming, and he died – again.

"A slit throat turns the mightiest mage into a rather ordinary person", Bishop said with satisfaction, picking up his second scimitar. "He would have done good to remember that."

Lana stared down at the dead-again body. "Well, that was quite... anticlimactic", she said.

Bishop looked up at her and lifted the bloody weapon in a mock salute. "Hello, _Captain"_ , he said. "Care to explain to me what the hell is going on?"

Lana stared at him, wordlessly, for a moment. He sounded very much like the Bishop of old. And the memories seemed to be back, judging from his words.

"Well, he put a Geas on you, that took your memory until we brought him back to life", she said.

"Thank you very much. Now, can you tell me anything I _don't_ know? The last thing I remember is that bastard gloating in my head in the Vale of Merdelain, and now I'm finding myself at this place, which, no offence, I very much hoped never to see again, in your company, for which goes the same. So, would you _please_ explain to me what is happening?"

Lana felt his words like needles in her heart. This _was_ the old Bishop. Very much so. And he did not seem to remember what had happened after the Geas set in.

_What about the man I travelled with?_

Was he gone? Just like that? As dead as the mage who created him?

The thought was surprisingly painful, and she stared at the ranger standing before her, not knowing what to say, opening her mouth, and closing it again, as no words would come.

"What? Cat got your tongue?", he snapped. "I did not think my question so difficult. So spill already, will you?"

Suddenly, a light appeared between them, swirling and slowly taking form. After a few seconds, a figure shimmered in the air, a malicious smile on full red lips. Lana stared, not believing her eyes.

_What the friggin' hells does that mean?_

"I can explain what's going on, my little one", Jaluth purred "Now, you've been a very bad boy, Bishop."

_"You!"_ , Bishop hissed, a world of hate in that single word. His eyes narrowed to slits, he fell into a fighting stance, slightly crouched, his weapons ready in his hands.

The woman's delighted laughter sent a shiver down Lana's spine.

"I see my little one is back. That makes me so happy. But I will have to punish you for being naughty. You ran away from me, little one."

"You bet I did! And if you think I will ever let you touch me again, you must be even crazier than I thought!", he snarled, the hair on his neck standing on edge. Literally.

"Oh, but you will. You will come to me. And you will bring her with you."

Bishop gave Lana a short glance and sneered. "Her? What do you want with _her?"_

The contempt in his voice felt like another stab at Lana's heart.

"That's my business, little one. She is a very precious pawn in the chess game the powers are playing. And she's such a pretty little kitty. Maybe I'll just amuse myself a bit with her. Or make her watch while I amuse myself with you." Her laughter pearled again, making Lana shudder.

_She's completely, utterly mad._

She saw Bishop shudder in time with herself, his face paler than usual. "You think I'll just walk into your clutches once more, willingly? Well, think again! Find someone else to play your little games with. I'm out of here. So long, _Captain."_

Without another glance at Lana, he turned to leave.

"Oh, but you will come to me, my little one", Jaluth said, silken menace in her voice.

Bishop faced her image again, sneering. "Oh? And why is that?"

She made a crushing motion with her right hand, and his face contorted in pain. He fell to the ground, groaning, convulsing, clutching at his chest.

She opened her hand again, and he stilled, gasping for breath. "Because I laid a Geas on you, little one. I thought the idea of our dear deceased friend Garius so _refreshing,_ I just had to try it myself, and I even added my own small twist to the spell. Doing spells after the book gets so _boring_ after some time. You _will_ come, and you will bring the kitten."

"Stop... messing with my life, bitch", Bishop coughed, trying to sit up. "Stay the hell away from me!"

She smiled, clenching her fist, and he screamed, his body arching from the ground. She opened her hand again, and he sagged, whimpering, pale, sweat on his face.

"You were always so delightfully stubborn, never surrendering without putting up a fight first. But remember the pain, little one. There's no place so far I can't reach you now. And if you don't obey, I'll just crush your heart. But slowly. Don't keep me waiting too long."

The image faded, and all Lana could hear were Bishop's gasps, reminding her eerily of sobs.

_That bitch!_

Her heart going out to him, Lana ran over to the ranger, falling to her knees by his side. She ran her fingers through his soft hair, asking anxiously: "Are you all right?"

He sat up, coughing, flicked his head back, away from her touch, and snarled: "Keep your hands off me! If you want to paw someone, go find the tin can. Where is he, by the way? Normally he glues himself to your butt. How come he let you out of his sight, especially with me around?"

Again, Lana could only stare wordlessly.

_Gone_ , she thought, numbly. _I thought I found a friend, and he's gone. Just like that._

"What?", he sneered, noticing her stare. "Missed my face? I know the human plate mail can't compete. Where did you leave him? Got enough of him in the end? Got bored? Can't say I'm surprised."

Every word sent a dagger through Lana's heart.

_I suddenly remember why I did not like him before. He nearly made me forget what a bastard he had been._

"He's dead", she said tonelessly. "The King of Shadows killed him."

Bishop grinned. He had the audacity to grin. Lana felt her blood starting to boil, her anger overcoming the numbness of shock.

"Well", he said. "Guess that's what you get for dragging people on suicide missions."

Something in Lana snapped. Her hand shot out and caught him across the face, slapping him hard, making his head snap around. Retracting her hand, she backhanded him on the other cheek, then she sat, her hands balled into fists, breathing heavily, her eyes shooting daggers at him.

"Don't. Ever. Speak of him again", she said, softly, menacingly.

Bishop touched his stinging cheek, smiling evilly. "Thanks", he said. "That makes _this_ so much easier."

And with these words, his fist shot out, a motion so quick it turned into a blur, and before Lana could react in any way, it connected with her chin. Hard.

The world went dark.


	15. Going Back

Lana woke to a splitting headache, her jaw feeling swollen to double its size. She groaned softly, trying to touch her aching face – but found she could not.

_What...?_

She tried to sit up, but could not move at all. She opened her eyes, to find the sky was lightening with the first hint of dawn. And that she could not move because her hands and feet were bound tightly.

She turned her head to see Bishop sitting a few yards away, looking at her with a blank expression on his face.

_That bastard!_

Anger boiled up in her like a hot geyser. “You misbegotten, fly-bitten _toad!_ Take these off immediately, you beef-witted maggot!”, she snarled.

He shrugged. “Sticks and stones, _Captain_ , sticks and stones.”

As always, the word “Captain” had a not so subtle derisive undercurrent, coming from his mouth. And even though Lana could not care less about the title they had thrown at her so she would keep still and do as she was told, it served only to fuel her fury.

She gnashed her teeth and jerked in vain at her bonds. “Take these off, or I swear I will...”

He laughed. “You will what, _Captain?_ Curse me some more? I own you could always swear with the best of them, but it still does not exactly make me quiver.”

She let out a yell of helpless fury, and he laughed again.

“And now, _Captain”_ , he added, “I think you’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Screw you!”

His lips curled in a mocking smile, his eyes glittering derisively. “I remember offering twice, but you turned me down.”

“I’d rather do Grobnar!”

But with the words came an image, the image of his face above her, fire blazing in his honey coloured eyes, his body pressed against hers... The sudden, surprising pain she felt made much of her anger evaporate and left a sting in the corner of her eyes.

“Now, that’s a harsh thing to say, _Captain_. You could hurt my feelings with that.”

She had to avert her face to hide her eyes from him. “You don’t _have_ any feelings”, she mumbled.

“That is not true. At the moment I _feel_ like I’m bursting with curiosity to find out how we ended up together at Crossroad Keep, for example. And how my dear old friend Jaluth comes to be in the picture.” He tried hard to make the words sound nonchalant, but Lana could detect a slight wavering in his voice.

_He’s afraid._

Well, no wonder.

“So?”, he said. “Sing.”

She shrugged as much as possible with her hands tied. “No. Not as long as I am bound.”

He sneered. “I won’t take off the ropes, _Captain._ I’m not a total retard. I know very well what you can do with your hands free. So they will stay nicely bound.”

“Then I won’t say anything.”

“Talk!”, he growled.

She glared at him. “Go hang yourself, wolf boy.”

“You know”, he said softly, “I’m not really above torturing people if it suits me.”

She shrugged again. “Can’t say I’m surprised to hear that.”

His lips curled into a grin. “That was one of the things I always liked about you. You don’t scare easily.”

She scowled at him. “You don’t scare me, wolfy.”

He got up, and went on his knees next to her. There was a strange light in his eyes, but Lana could not put a name to it. 

“Maybe you should be scared”, he said, his fingers running slowly over her cheek. “You’re at my mercy, and I’m not widely known for my soft heart.”

His touch was like a ghost of the tenderness she had seen in him the last few days. She felt a stab of hurt again, a sharp feeling of loss. The sting in her eyes was back, and she closed them, so he would not see.

_I swear to the gods, when this is over, I’m going to join a nunnery. I’m so done with crying over men._

But right now, she could not prevent a single tear from escaping and running down her cheek.

The motion of his fingers froze, and his hand went to her neck, gripping her hair tightly. 

“What?”, he said, tension in his voice. “What is it?”

She opened her eyes, her vision slightly blurred due to the tears still swimming in them. That did not keep her from throwing him a withering look.

“Piss off”, she said, proud of herself for sounding steady.

He let go of her hair and sat back a bit. “I’ve never seen you cry”, he remarked, his eyes probing hers.

“Well, enjoy the moment, because it won’t come again”, she snapped.

He grinned. “Shrew”, he said.

“Son of a whore”, she spat.

He laughed. “See, that’s why I just can’t hate you”, he replied, “no matter how hard I try. You’re the only woman I know who can give me a run for my money. In your own way, you’re just as mean as I am.”

“I’m _nothing_ like you, you bastard!”

He snorted. “If believing that makes you happy.”

“Do the world a favour and swallow your tongue!”

“So, what’s with the tears?”, he asked, sitting back a bit and observing her like she was a dog that learned an interesting new trick.

“Got something in my eye.”

Bishop shook his head. “You’re not exactly cooperating.”

It was her time to snort. “I think that spell messed something up in your head”, she said bitingly. “You knock me out and truss me up and expect me to be cooperating?”

He shrugged. “Had to.”

“Like hell you had to.”

Something flickered on his face. “You seriously want to tell me you would have come with me, to... _her?”_

She stared at him, mulling his words over. Would she?

In her mind, the last couple of days started running before her eyes. 

She saw him sitting in front of her at the breakfast table after they first had met again, looking dejected. In the cage in Jaluth’s disgusting play room, looking forlorn, desperate. She remembered the look on his face when he told her he might love her. The feel of his body against hers. How he had held her, comforted her. And last, the way his face had lit up when she told him they were friends.

Then she looked at the man sitting in front of her, regarding her with a cold, calculating stare out of his wolf eyes. He looked identical, and so different at the same time.

Would she have gone with him, had he not chosen the hard way to convince her?

_Hells, yes. I would have gone with him, if I could but believe there might be something left of the man I knew. Some way to bring him back._

Loud she said: “Not even in your dreams, wolf boy.”

He laughed, bitterly. “Dreams? Nightmares, more like. Do you think I _want_ to go back?”

He got up and started pacing in front of her, his hands running through his hair.

“Do you honestly believe I would go back, if I thought I had the slightest choice? Back to that bitch? She was the _one_ person I really never wanted to meet again in my life. You don’t know... you have no idea...” He swallowed and stopped, breathing hard, still pacing.

_Oh, but I do._

He turned, facing her, a fierce light in his eyes. “But somehow, she got her claws into me again.”, he continued. “And there’s nothing for me to do but do as she said, and go back. And to bring you with me. And believe me, bring you I will. Because I have to. But also because I really want to know how I ended up in her pretty web again, after I took so much trouble to escape it years ago.”

His hands clenched to tight his knuckles turned white. “You’re not telling. Fine, I don’t care. I’ll find out when we arrive. She will not be able to resist, she will gloat and spill it all. But this time...” his voice went low and vibrated with hatred, “...this time, I will find a way to get rid of her. I will kill her. I swear I will. I will not be her toy again. No fucking way.” He kicked at a pebble at his feet, viciously, and sent it flying into the night.

Lana remembered how helpless they both had been, how easily the harlot had defeated them. The thought still made her stomach turn sour.

And she felt the desperation under his show of bravado.

_He knows he stands no chance._

She wanted to be angry with him. She wanted to hate him. Where was her fury when she needed it?

She couldn’t be angry. The only thing she felt for him was pity. And regret. And... no. Nothing else.

_Stupid, Lana, stupid. He’s going to feed you to the monster, and you pity him._

But she could not help it. She had seen what the bitch would do to him. And he had to walk back into her claws, knowing what was expecting him. Knowing that this time, Jaluth would make it hard for him to escape again. If not impossible.

Lana shuddered. The thought would drive her crazy.

_Don’t pity him so much. Remember, he will drag you into the hussy’s clutches as well. Without a second thought._

She swallowed. That was right. Bishop was not the only one who would be at Jaluth’s mercy. And this time, chances were she would not remain as unscathed as last time. 

_Who knows what kind of plans she has with me?_

The first traces of fear made themselves felt.

_I have to get away. Have to run, somehow!_

_Very clever. And how are you going to do that, with the second best tracker of the Sword Coast on your heels? Apart from the little problem that you are bound into one neat parcel?_

Even if she managed to get free, to get away, he would have no trouble finding her again. She was not forest girl, as she had told him a lifetime ago. She was not good at finding her way in the wilderness, let alone surviving there. The little matter of finding food, water, shelter, and avoiding the more unpleasant denizens of the woods might be a little hard for her to handle on her own.

And, even if she managed to find her way around, to survive... he would always catch her and drag her back. She would leave a track as visible as that of an ox for him.

_So, how to do it without leaving a trail...? Fly?_

_No, something much better!_

The thought struck her suddenly, and she shifted cautiously to feel if the leather bag he had made for her was still in place.

It was.

Of course! If he did not remember the last days, he did not remember the bag! And it seemed like he had not bothered to check under her clothes, even if he had removed all of her other equipment.

So, the only question remaining was: How was she going to get her hands free, to get to the Teleport scroll and use it?


	16. The Short Way Home

How to get to the Teleport scroll to use it?

That stayed the price question, the whole miserable day Bishop dragged her through the woods. Lana simply could not think of anything. This time, he kept her going ahead of him, watching her diligently. He had released her feet, and standing up, she might have been able to fumble the bag out of her breeches, get the scroll out with her bound hands... but he did not leave her a chance. Did not leave her out of his sight for a second.

_Damn him!_

Oh, after another hot and sweaty day traipsing through that blasted wilderness, she was angry at him. She would have loved to beat some sense into his thick skull with an oak cudgel. Damn his lone wolf act!

Together, they might have found a way, might have come up with a plan to get out of this scrape. But he had made it more than clear that there would be no “together” anymore. That there was just him and her and of the two of them, he liked himself better.

It made her want to kick his ass from here to doomsday.

But she also was sad, no denying that. Even the anger could not drown out the sadness. Why did it have to be like this, when she knew it could have been so very different? _Had_ been so very different?

She missed the companionship of the days past. Missed the laughter, the banter, the closeness. Missed the warmth and the tenderness. Missed his touch, the comfort.

_Damn, damn, damn!_

And even though she knew he was sacrificing her to save his own hide, she could not help but feel pity. The image of his mangled skin, of the horrors Jaluth had inflicted on him, was still fresh in her mind. Maybe his old self was better equipped to deal with the hussy than the kinder, softer version she had come to like, but he still would suffer incredibly.

He might not break under the darkness Jaluth would make him go through, because he carried enough darkness in himself not to be horrified at certain things. Not to despair under the realisation of what he was capable of doing. Because he just plain did not give a damn.

But he still felt pain, and he still would suffer under the indignities, the humiliation, the torture, and the loss of his freedom. The freedom he valued so much.

No one deserved to be treated like that. Not even him.

On the other hand, even with the sadness and the pity, there was no way in hell she would let him drag her back into that cage, into the clutches of the loony queen. Not if she could help it. Not if the companion of the last days was irrevocably lost to her.

So she trudged through the woods, her head down, thinking as hard as she could. Bishop was at her heels, sometimes directing her with curt, clipped words, making her wonder how he knew where to go if he had lost the memory of their flight from Jaluth’s mansion. But she would bite off her own tongue before she asked.

Karnwyr trotted at Bishop’s side, and when they paused, she could sometimes see the wolf throw his master questioning glances. Often, the animal would look at her as if she would be able to provide an answer.

Which, unfortunately, she could not. Even if she had been sure what the question was.

Come evening, she was so tired it bordered on exhaustion. She had not had any sleep last night, not counting the unconsciousness; she had been hit hard and her face still ached, and she had had another day of crawling through bushes. She felt like she was ready to drop. Still, she would be damned if she let him see any of this. Clenching her teeth, she continued walking, even if every step seemed to send a painful jolt up her aching legs and into her mangled jaw.

Finally, he called out to her to stop walking. Lana turned to face him, her chin up, defiance in her eyes.

“We’ll stay here for the night”, he said, setting down his pack. She waited, standing, not saying a word, for him to untie her hands so she could set down her pack, too. Maybe, if she was quick, she could...

He came over to her, stepping behind her, starting to work on the rope that bound her wrists. 

“Keep still, or I’ll make you regret it”, he said.

As soon as she felt her hands come free, she whirled around, stepping back, and reached out to her powers.

Quick as lightning he followed her, grabbing her wrists just as she started to weave the eldritch strands into the pattern that would allow her to move so much faster, holding her hands in an iron grip above her head, pinning her to the tree behind her with his body to keep her from moving.

“Now, _Captain”_ , he said, his brows drawn up. “I said I was going to make you regret if you tried anything like that.”

The low purr in his voice sent a shower down her back. He was close, so close... she could feel him pressing against her, and she could smell his earthy scent, musky, spicy...

Again, images of his naked body next to hers came to her mind, memories of the sleekness of his skin, his hot breath in her ear.

She swallowed, closing her eyes to get a grip on her reactions.

He leaned forward, making her feel the warmth radiating from his body even more. “What”, he whispered into her ear, and she could have sworn there was laughter in his voice. “Am I affecting you, _Captain?”_

She swallowed again, repressing a shiver. “Yes”, she answered, forcing her voice to sound calm, even managing to give it a biting note. “You’re making me feel nauseous.”

Now he really laughed. She could hear the low chuckle next to her ear, feel the slight shaking of his body.

“I remember why I offered to run away into the woods with you”, he said, sounding genuinely amused. “You’re never boring, I’ll give you that. Now, be a good girl, take off that pack and let me bind your hands without forcing me to hurt you again. You know I will do it if I have to, but I would prefer to get some rest.”

She opened her eyes again, now that she trusted he would not see anything she would not like him to see in them, and found him looking down at her with a glittering smile on his face.

She gnashed her teeth. Bastard! How dare he laugh at her?

He chuckled again at the sparks shooting at him out of her green eyes. “Hells, such a temper. You really were wasted on the tin can. Should have taken me up on my offer. I would have known what to do with so much fire.”

She gasped in fury, wanting to slap that slimy grin from his face so much she jerked against his grip, but in vain. “Don’t speak of him!” she hissed. “You’re not worth the muck under his boots!”

His face got thoughtful, and his gaze travelled over her face, lazily. “Such a temper”, he repeated, as if talking to himself. “ His eyes ended up on her mouth and lingered there. “But I think I would have been able to handle that.”

_Why, that presumptuous, arrogant, snot-nosed..._

She got very still under the pressure of his body, and slowly, a cruel smile tugged at her lips. “Well”, she said sweetly, “I think you’ve got a very _temperamental_ woman waiting for you, wistfully. Let’s see how you _handle_ her.”

His eyes snapped back to hers and she felt satisfaction to see that all traces of arrogance and self-assuredness were gone, leaving only naked fear behind. Then the nondescript expression was back, and he drew away a bit, turning her in one swift motion, wrenching her hands to her back painfully in the process.

She could not stop a pained noise from escaping her while she found her face pressed into the rough bark of the tree.

“Enough of this”, she heard his voice, cold now. “Move, and you’ll regret it. You’d do good to believe me this time.”

And somehow, she did. So she kept still while he took off the pack she still carried and bound her hands behind her back, telling herself that patience was the better part of virtue. She would bide her time and wait for her moment to come. No sense in provoking him even more. She would wait and when the time came, she would be the last one laughing.

The angry knot in her stomach did not want to believe her, but she got the better of it. For now.

So she remained outwardly calm while he bound her again. She even managed to keep quiet while he hand-fed her later, refusing to release her hands so she could eat. He fed her morsels of bread and held the water skin to her mouth so she could drink. 

She really felt like biting his fingers but managed to repress the childish impulse.

It helped that he was cold and matter-of-factly about the whole process, not talking, not looking at her more than necessary, no innuendo. Her comment about Jaluth really had put a damper on his spirits, it seemed. She still felt a grim satisfaction about that. It might have been a petty comment, might have been deliberately cruel, but he had it coming.

A bit of his own medicine was exactly what he needed, and she was happy to serve.

xxx

Later, she lay on her side, her hands still behind her back in a more than uncomfortable position, longingly thinking about the scroll she carried. How to reach it? With her hands in front of her she might have been able to, but like this...?

He was much too careful not to give her any opportunities. He was not taking risks. And her comfort obviously was not something he took into consideration.

_Well, there’s a surprise._

She watched him, lying on the other side of the small fire he had started, seemingly deeply asleep. 

_Don’t count on it._

Even while asleep, she knew him to stay alert on some level. If she moved too much, he would wake. He never let down his guard completely. 

Movement caught her eye. It was Karnwyr, circling their camp, watching over them.

_Karnwyr!_

Maybe that was the solution. She called out to him, her voice not even a whisper, but she knew his keen senses would pick it up. And certainly, his ears pricked and he turned his face to her.

“Come here, furface”, she breathed, still keeping her voice so low even she could barely hear.

The wolf came over, stopping in front of her, his head tilted slightly as if asking a question.

“Help me”, she said, softly. “Chew the bonds.”

He just stood, staring at her, so still not even a hair of his fur moved.

“You’re not betraying him”, she whispered. “You _know_ he does not want to go. You know he hates that woman. You know he is afraid. If I escape, I will try to find a way to help him. But like this, I can’t do anything for him.”

His head tilted to the other side.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take the ropes with me. He won’t know how I got free, he won’t see you chewed them. Help your master, Karnwyr. Let me help him.”

His strangely intelligent eyes showed indecision, and he whined softly.

“The spell forces him to come to her, but to bring me as well. If I escape, he will have to look for me. It will keep him from having to return to her. You’re not only helping me, furface. You’re helping _him_ in the first place.”

She was not sure that was true, but it might be. And she just had to get away. Did it matter if she lied to an animal for that?

The wolf turned and vanished from her field of view. Moments later she felt his muzzle at her back, felt his teeth tugging at the ropes. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to relax as she remembered the _huge_ teeth and what they did, tearing into flesh. Karnwyr would not hurt her intentionally, but the bonds were tight... what if he slipped? What if he accidentally ripped her wrist open...?

She kept as still as possible, hardly daring to breathe, to make sure no twitching of her hands caused that slip of teeth. After seemingly an eternity, she felt the bonds loosen a bit, and Karnwyr redoubled his efforts, now that he had some slack. Soon, the ropes fell away. 

She sat up, repressing a pained moan as the circulation returned fully to her hands, and moved them carefully. When the tingling stopped, she stroked the ears of the wolf who regarded her expectantly, and pressed a small kiss on his furry forehead. 

“Thanks”, she whispered. 

Then she quickly, but carefully pulled out the leather bag and got out the scroll, cursing the rustling of the parchment. She threw a quick glance at Bishop and saw that he had moved his head, but his eyes were still closed.

_Hurry!_

She turned the scroll so she could read the symbols inscribed on it in the flickering light of the fire, mumbling the words under her breath, as quietly as possible, the remnants of the rope gripped in her other hand. She would not leave them behind. She had promised Karnwyr. The rest of her equipment was lost, but that was a small price to pay.

Karnwyr padded away from her while she continued to intone the incantation. Suddenly, she heard a sharp cry and the sound of someone jumping to his feet. She fought to keep her concentration, to tone out the noises of someone rushing up to her.

Frantically, her voice rising, she spoke the last words of the spell and looked up to see Bishop had nearly reached her, his face a mask of fury, surprise and fear. His hands reached out to grab her, he was nearly there, one second more and he would have reached her...

...when she felt a tingling in her body, and the image faded in front of her eyes, to be replaced by the familiar picture of the library of Crossroad Keep.


	17. Prodigal Daughter

Lana let herself sink to the cold floor, consisting of flagstones. Her knees were weak, and she let out a shaking breath she did not know she had been holding.

_That was close._

If Bishop had ripped the scroll out of her hand before she could finish the spell, or broken her concentration… well, she did not think he would have given her another opportunity to escape. And travelling in his company afterwards would probably have been even less fun than before. If that was possible.

_It can always get worse._

All the more reason to be happy to be away. No more Bishop, and even better, no more Jaluth. 

_Have fun with Bishop, crackpot, but leave me out of it._

At least Bishop deserved what he got. Maybe not coming from Jaluth, but in some karmic way Lana was sure it balanced out with what he had done to others. And now that he was his old evil self again, there was no question of him deserving what he got.

_What happened to pity?_

Lana snorted at herself, clamping down on the feeling of uneasiness. Pity, for godssake! She must have been severely touched in the head to feel anything like that towards the ranger. Probably just the last remnants of the sympathy his alter ego made her feel. But that man was gone like a puff of smoke, and so would the softer feelings she had for him. Just a question of time.

_You promised Karnwyr to try and help him._

Oh, this was getting better and better. Now she was supposed to feel bound to a promise she made to a _wolf?_ Ridiculous. She was home at last, and she...

_Oh._

_Right. Home. Didn’t think about that._

The home she had left without talking to anyone. The home she had turned her back on, neglecting and ignoring all her duties, her obligations, and the people who relied on her. Also the home that held so many painful memories they had made her run like hell.

And very likely not even her home anymore. Nasher probably had already found someone to replace her. Kana, for instance.

_Maybe my friends have all gone...?_

That would leave her with Kana to turn to. Not a happy thought. The dutiful sergeant and her had not really been best friends. Lana sometimes had difficulties to refrain from strangling the woman when the _decide this’s_ and _sign heres_ and _check thats_ just wouldn’t stop. And Kana had been very disapproving of Lana’s rather... _lax_ approach at Keep... um, keeping.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the door of the library open, and a nasal voice said: “I _thought_ I heard a noise. Stay right there, knave, or be prepared to be burned to cinder. Don’t even _think_ about touching one of the books with your probably filthy fingers! How ever did someone... oh, my.”

The speaker broke his tirade and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He turned to Lana just as she picked herself up from the floor. She had never been so happy at the sight of his refined elven features and his long, black hair, held back by a leather thong so it would not fall into his face.

“Well, if it isn’t our errant Knight Captain, returning home at last. And a bit worse for wear, I’d say.”, he said with a wry smile.

“Sand!”, Lana exclaimed. She was so happy to see him, she could not help herself. She just had to walk up to him and hug him tight. 

“Oh my”, he said again, patting her awkwardly on the back. Then he sniffed. “Not that I am not happy to see you, dear girl, but I have to tell you that you _do_ smell worse than your uncle. I’d love to hear about the adventures you had, which, judging from your face, must have been very... _colourful_ , but after a bath, perhaps?”

She laughed and stepped back, wiping a stray tear out of her eye. “A bath would be nice”, she said.

“I’d say”, he murmured, under his breath. Then he turned to the door again. “Let me just inform Kana of your return.”

“No!”, Lana said, with more force than she had intended.

Sand turned around again, his finely curved eyebrows drawn up. “No?” he asked. “And, if I may be so bold to inquire, why not?”

Lana shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. “I just can’t face her right now. I imagine she disapproved very much of the way I... left. I’m really not up to one of her lectures right now. All I want is some sleep.” Looking into Sands face she quickly added: “After I had a bath.”

“Well, dear girl, you _are_ Captain of this here Keep. You could just _order_ her to be quiet.”

“Am I still?”, Lana asked under her voice. “Damn.”

Sand’s pointed elven ears twitched slightly. “I am sorry, but I did not quite catch that.”

“Ah, I’m sorry”, Lana said, in her normal voice. “I said, no one can order Kana to be quiet if she is on one of her crusades for duty.”

“I admit there is some truth in what you say. So, if you like that plan better, I’ll just order a bath to my personal rooms and you can get rid of that nose insulting odour there. I promise I won’t watch.”

Lana had to grin. “The only way I could get you to watch would be to cover myself with magical inscriptions.”

“Tempting, dear girl, tempting, but I think I’ll pass. So, if you permit, I will use that Invisibility spell I coincidentally memorised this morning on you, and you will be able to follow me to my rooms with no one the wiser.”

“Coincidentally, huh? What ever would you want to memorise an Invisibility spell for, here in the Keep?”

“Believe me, Captain, there are many interesting uses one can make of such a spell. Since your departure... well, let’s just say you might not be the only one to occasionally feel the need to escape the attention of our dear Kana.”

Lana’s grin broadened. “Point taken. Go ahead, invisibilise me. Just get me to a hot bath without running into her.” She drew a face. “And maybe a night’s rest before I take the lecture.”

“I think we can arrange that, my dear. You look in dire need of some sleep indeed. Just follow me and try not to run into any guard, and everything should be perfect.”

Sand pulled some small object out of one of the innumerable pockets of his robe. “Luckily I already prepared this this morning”, he mused. “Plucking out eyelashes when you need them is very painful, believe me. So I like to plan a bit ahead in case I have to actually cast Invisibility.” He murmured some words under his breath, touched Lana’s shoulder, and the little blob of... something in his fingers vanished.

As did Lana. She looked down her body... but saw only the flagstones of the floor. She laughed. “Sand, you’re a genius, did I ever tell you that?”

“Actually, you did not, but I am overjoyed you finally noticed the fact. Now, if you could follow me without walking into anything, we should encounter no problems on the way.” He smiled into her general direction and recited another incantation in a low voice. He blinked and his eyes focussed on Lana. He smiled again. “Ah, much better that way.”

She grinned. “What, you _coincidentally_ memorised See Invisibility as well?”

He shook his head. “Dear girl, even if I turn invisible, I very much prefer I can see myself. Ever tried touching something without being able to see your hand? Fumbling around to get hold of anything can draw a _lot_ of unwanted attention, believe me. And in this case, it helps if I don’t have to ask if you passed the door so I might close it again. Even if the most stupid guard – and we seem to have a lot of those – will wonder at that.”

“So true, dear Sand”, she said, mimicking his nasal tone and grinning at the face he made. “I think I’d like to see myself, too... so if you just hold on a second...?” She reached out to her powers, causing a whispering sound to pervade the air while she wove the pattern that would allow her to _See the Unseen_. After the sound died, she glanced down again – and there she was, chain shirt and all. She nodded at Sand.

“So, if you are ready to go, please, after you, Knight Captain.” He opened the door and waited for her to pass.

Lana walked past him into the hall. As usual, a couple of guards were hanging around, now drawing themselves up to attention as they heard Sand approaching. Lana threw a glance into the corner Torio usually lurked in, but it was empty. Maybe the harpy had already gone to sleep.

And there was the spot Casavir had preferred, quite a bit away from Torio... empty, as it had been for months...

_No, don’t go there._

She waited for Sand to pass her by and followed him as quietly as she could. She was not sneaky girl, that had been Neeshka’s part - and Bishop’s, except that he wasn’t a girl, but the sneaky part applied...

_Don’t go there, either!_

Bloody hells, what was she supposed to think of? This Keep still brought so many memories. Already she could feel the weight of them crushing back down on her, making it hard to breathe.

With a shock, she realised how much the oppressing weight had been lifted from her mind the last couple of days. Even with the quarrels and the bitching and the still painful memories of Casavir, the days spent in Bishop’s company had been the... well, not happiest, but the least unhappy ones at any rate she had had for months.

_Bloody, crying hells._

Somewhat depressed, Lana followed Sand through the familiar hallways until they reached the door to his private rooms. He unlocked the door – he had always been paranoid about leaving his room open – and went inside, slowly closing the door to give her time to slip in after him. 

Inside, he turned to her again. “I will go and order a bath in some minutes. What a piece of luck I have not bathed today yet, or else someone would be bound to think me very eccentric indeed. Not that they do not think that anyway. I will not lift the invisibility spell until the bath is prepared and everyone out again. Just stay here and try not to make any noise, will you?”

“I’ll try my very best to be good”, Lana said meekly, throwing him a glance through her lashes.

“Well, the novelty of that experience would certainly be refreshing”, he murmured and went to the door.

Lana snickered and looked around in the room. It was not as big as her old one in the Keep, but roomy enough. Still, there did not seem to be enough room for all the books lying around, covering nearly every surface and building stacks on the floor.

_It’s a miracle there are any books left in the library at all, between him and Aldanon..._

She sauntered over to the desk to have a look when she caught her face in a mirror at the wall and gasped.

_I’d love to hear about the adventures you had, which, judging from your face, must have been very... colourful._

Now she really understood why Sand had said that. She stared at her image in the mirror in disbelief, touching the large purple bruise on her chin gently.

_I’m going to kill him. He won’t have to worry about Jaluth, because she will only be able to have fun with his corpse._

She touched her face again and winced.

_Bloody, blasted, miserable bastard! I’ll make him pay for this!_

The door opened again and she heard Sand’s voice, directing someone where to put the tub.

“And be quick to fill it with hot – hot! – water. And bring me some scented soaps. I’d like to have a long bath in private for a change. Hurry up, will you? Take care not to step on the books. And be careful with the water, you hear? These books are quite valuable!”

Lana turned away from the mirror, anger still churning in her stomach. Sands eyes rested on her for a second, noticing the thunderous expression on her face, and one of his eyebrows went up, an amused twinkle in his slanted blue eyes.

She stood back at the wall while people bustled in and out, filling the tub with steaming water, under the watchful eyes of Sand, who repeatedly threatened the poor servants with the most painful of deaths if they ruined as much as one of the books by being careless.

After the terrified servants had filled the tub and fled the room, Sand closed the bolt on the door and turned to Lana.

“Please, dear Captain, don’t hesitate to climb into this tub as long as the water is still hot. I marvel they did not smell you, standing in that corner.” He sniffed again and added: “I’m going to drop my See Invisibility Spell, so that you won’t have to worry about me watching you.” He slid his hand over his eyes and blinked again. “Done. The tub is yours.”

Lana pulled her chain shirt over her head and let it fall to the floor, followed by her clothes. She looked down at the heap at her feed sadly.

“I guess I could use a change of clothing as well, those are less than clean... but I had to leave all of my stuff behind.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that for now. I will gladly lend you one of my spare robes if that means I will not have to endure the offending fumes that seem to rise from your garments. It might be a bit snug, but you are small for a human, so it will do for tonight. Tomorrow we can try to get some of your clothes from your room, if you still do not feel compelled to meet our dear Kana.”

Lana smiled at that and stepped into the hot water. “Thank you”, she said while she sat down, taking care not to cause any water to splash over the rim of the tub. Sand would probably fry her as well if she damaged one of his beloved books. Then she closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the hot water. “Aaaah, this is so good”, she moaned happily. “He can talk about the wonders of the wilds all he wants, but bathing in a cold brook is just not up to par.”

“He...?”, Sand asked, his eyebrows as far up as they would go.

_Ooops._

Lana swallowed and threw him a glance, glad he could not see the colour she felt rising in her cheeks. She grabbed the soap and dunked her head under the water, pretending not to have heard.

“Oh, come on, my dear”, the wizard said when she emerged from the water. “I heard you submerge _after_ I asked. And I am burning to hear how that bruise comes to be on your face. And what adventures you encountered on the road while we poor ordinary mortals toiled away at the Keep. I beg of you, don’t keep me in the dark, the suspense is killing me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it”, Lana answered sullenly while she started to lather her hair. 

“Now, no need to be shy. I’m really quite curious to find out what put you into such a... state.”

“Which part of _I don’t want to talk about it_ did you not understand?”; Lana snapped. The thought of having to tell Sand about her... encounter with Bishop really did not appeal to her.

He was silent for a heartbeat, then he smiled thinly. “My, I can see that whatever rigours you endured did do nothing to dampen your temper. I find that strangely comforting. I’ll be quiet. For now.”

“Good”, Lana just said. 

Sand sniffed and took one of the books from his bedside table, opening it and obviously losing himself in its contents immediately.

Lana leaned back in the tub, closed her eyes and tried to find something to think about that did not involve men in any way.

xxx

When the water had cooled down too much to be comfortable, Lana reluctantly got up and started to rub herself dry with a towel. It felt wonderful to be clean again.

“So, how about that robe?”, she asked Sand, who had not taken his nose out of his book since she had snubbed him.

He lifted his head and looked into her general direction, frowning, as if he had forgotten she even was there. Which seemed quite likely, since he usually forgot everything around him as soon as he had a book in front of his face.

Then he got up and went over to the armoire in the corner. “Certainly, my dear.” He opened the armoire and started to rummage through its contents. “Ah, I think you best take that one. It’s always been a bit wide for me, so it might fit you.”

He drew out a simple, gray cotton robe and put it on the chair next to him. “Just help yourself to it. And I might have some spare blankets here...” He went back to going through the contents of the cabinet. “Oh yes, here they are. I will sleep on the floor tonight, so you might take the bed. The sheets are fresh, don’t worry.”

She shook her head, smiling, then remembered he could not see her. “That’s very kind, but not necessary. I slept on the floor in the woods for the last weeks, sleeping on the floor of your room will be an improvement. Keep your bed.”

He got up and went to the door. “Oh, but I insist, dear girl, I insist. So little opportunity here to be a gentleman, I can’t let this one pass. Now, I will call the servants to remove the tub. I hope they will be able to do so without ruining half of the invaluable pieces of wisdom in this room.”

Lana grinned. “They will be so afraid of the dire retributions you are threatening them with that their hands will shake so badly they will spill everything. And it will all be your fault, you know?”

“My dearest Captain, even if it is all my fault, you know that I will never admit to it. So they do right to be afraid. I certainly hope the consequences of any blunder will put them on their guard. Now, if you will excuse me for a moment...”

With that, he went out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Lana smiled and went to the table, throwing the robe over her head. It was a bit snug, especially around the chest, since the slight wizard just lacked certain... attributes that she had to squeeze into his garments. But it really would do for the night, and everything had to be better than having to wear her own really stinky clothes.

Soon, she could hear steps approaching and Sands voice threatening the poor servants again with fire and lightning if they ruined his books.

_Actually, they’re my books still – maybe I should tell him to tone it down._

But she knew nothing would ever convince Sand that an interesting book was not his by default, regardless of the little details of actual ownership. He seemed to think he had something of a birthright to the possession of everything printed between two covers. But fact was, Lana just did not give a damn about books, never liked to be stuck in the musty stink of a library. If he wanted it, Sand was welcome to every book in the library, as far as Lana was concerned.

She stayed in the corner, watching as the trembling servants removed the water from the tub and then the tub itself without accident. Maybe Sand had been right about the blessings of adequate motivation.

As soon as they had left, she said: “You sure about the bed? I don’t mind sleeping on the floor, really.”

“I’m sure, dear girl. You look like you need a good night’s rest much more than me.”

Lana plopped down on the bed and snuggled under the covers with a sigh of relief. Her eyelids suddenly felt like they had lead weights pulling them down. Sand started to spread his blankets on the floor in front of the small fireplace in his room.

“So, dearest Captain, will you let your humble wizard know what plans you have for the future? Do you intend to reclaim your role as Knight Captain of this Keep?”

Future? Thinking about the future made Lana’s heart feel as heavy as her eyelids. 

_Not now. I don’t want to think about it now._

“Sorry, Sand”, she mumbled. “But I am so tired I just want to sleep for a week. Talk tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow then”, he said. “Good night, dear Captain. But don’t forget I still want to hear about the adventures you encountered on the road.”


	18. Admissions

Lana could feel the smile on Casavir's mouth as he returned her kiss. "We made it", he murmured.

She opened her eyes to smile at him – and saw the huge shadow form behind him.

Her eyes growing large, she seemed paralysed as she could do nothing to warn him. But he must have seen something on her face, because he shoved her away in the exact moment the vicious claws pierced his body from behind, lifting him from his feet while they ripped upwards through his torso.

Lana fell to the floor, staring up in horror at his pale face, and could see the love shining in his blue eyes. _I love you,_ he mouthed. Then his eyes left her face and looked behind her.

Sobbing, Lana whirled around – to see Bishop standing there. A huge, black snake had coiled around his body, immobilising him, hissing menacingly.

He looked at her with a soft expression on his face, not struggling against the snake, only looking down at her. He smiled, sadly, tenderly. "I truly loved you, you know?", he whispered. "Farewell."

And the snake hissed again, rearing back its head, about to strike at his neck, opening its mouth with the razor sharp teeth, long as daggers.

"Nooooooo", Lana yelled, looking around again, looking for Casavir – but Casavir and the King of Shadows were gone. "No!", she sobbed again, turning back to Bishop and the snake, but they, too, had vanished.

"No, please", she wailed, "please don't leave me. Come back, please, please, come back to me..."

She felt a hand at her cheek, wiping away the tears and clutched at it. "Please, don't go", she sobbed. "Come back, please, I can't lose you, can't lose you both..."

"My dear, I assure you I don't plan on leaving, but I can't but feel that this heart-wrenching plea does not apply to me. Do wake up, please, you seem to have a rather unpleasant dream again."

The nasal voice pervaded Lana's sleep-fogged mind. She opened her eyes, tears still streaming from them, to see Sand's blurred face looming above her.

It had all been a dream. _The_ dream. Again.

_Bishop's not here to keep it away anymore._

And now he also had made it _into_ the dream.

"Do you want some water?", Sand asked gently.

Lana shook her head, still clinging to his hand. "No, thanks", she said hoarsely.

"Do you want to talk about it now?", he asked. Her vision had cleared a bit, and she could see the pity on his ageless elven face. "I know you don't like to talk about it, but it does help, you know? And I will be happy to listen."

She turned her face away to stare at the wall.

Sand sighed. "My dear, sometimes stubbornness is _not_ a sign of a strong character, but just – stubborn."

Lana did not reply.

"Well, let's try something else then. I will ask questions, and you can just nod or shake your head. My first question is rather obvious: You dreamed about Casavir?"

Lana hesitated for a moment, but then nodded, still staring at the wall.

"And there was another man."

She nodded again.

"A man that you met while you were away?"

Nod.

"The same man that put that... bruise on your face?"

Hesitation. Nod.

"But you did not want him to leave."

Long hesitation. Nod.

"He hit you in the face. But you did not want to lose him."

"Can it, Sand", Lana said, her voice thick, her gaze still fixed at the wall. "I get the picture."

"Sorry, dear girl, but it just does not seem like you to put up with something like that. I would expect any man hitting you to end up as a pile of ash on the floor. Instead it seems to have endeared him to you. That _does_ strike me as odd."

Lana still avoided looking into his face. "It's complicated."

Sand sighed. "So it seems. Would you like to explain it to me? Because I find myself to be rather... mystified."

She shook her head.

"My dear, I do think the suspense will kill me if you keep me in the dark. Can you at least tell me his name?"

Lana looked into his face at last and found his slanted blue eyes looking down on her with a slight smile. His long, black hair was free from the leather thong he usually wore and fell around his face, reaching well over his shoulders.

She reached up and touched his hair lightly. "It's beautiful. You should wear it open more often."

He smiled. "Well, thank you, dear girl. I'm rather flattered. But not enough to forget the question, I'm afraid."

She averted her eyes again. "It was worth a try", she said.

"Oh, certainly", he answered. "One can always try. Now, can you tell me his name? All this avoidance makes me think it is a name I would recognise."

She put a hand over her eyes and groaned slightly. "Bishop", she mumbled.

Sand inhaled sharply. " _Bishop?_ Untidy hair, lousy shave, even worse manners? Unfortunate tendency to stab people in the back? _That_ Bishop?"

"You know another one?"

"I just wonder, if you ran into him, that you let him come close enough to do _this_." He softly touched her jaw.

"It's a long story."

"Indulge me. I assure you I have time enough."

That brought back the memory of a very similar conversation, some weeks ago. She laughed hoarsely. "Funny", she said. "That's nearly exactly what he said."

"He said what?"

"That he had time enough to hear my story. His story, to be exact."

"My dear girl, you are speaking in riddles."

She sighed, inhaling deeply. "Fine. You won't let it pass anyway, might as well get it over with. He had lost his memory, could not remember who he was, how we met, what he'd done. Anything."

"A trick, certainly."

Lana shook her head. "That's what I thought, but no. He really did not remember. He was... different. Polite. Gentle." Her eyes unfocussed while her mind went back to the past. A sad smile played around her lips.

Sand watched the expression on her face and wondered if she was aware of what it revealed.

"He was considerate, and helpful. Caring." She swallowed, and her eyes glittered with moisture. "Tender", she added, her voice soft.

"The picture you draw hardly resembles the man I know", Sand stated.

Lana's mind returned to the present, but the sad little smile stayed on her face. "I know", she said. "As I said, he was different."

"Then how come he did hit you?"

Her face closed down. "He regained his memory."

"I see", Sand said softly. "I must say I really would like to hear the whole story."

"I... met him at an inn. Pure chance it was. He noticed me looking at him and came over, because he hoped I knew him, could tell him something about him." She sighed. "I told him nearly everything. He... did not like what he heard. He was... devastated. The next morning, we were about to part ways when we got captured by Luskan."

"Captured by Luskan? But how ever did you get captured by some Luskan patrol?"

"It was no standard patrol", Lana said. "They were the escort of a Hosttower mage. A powerful Hosttower mage." She observed his face closely while she spoke.

The skin around his eyes tightened. "Hosttower mage?"

"Yes", she said. "You'll recognise the name. It was Jaluth Alaerth."

Sand blanched. "Oh, dear gods."

Lana nodded. "Amen to that. She seemed to have some history with Bishop. He had fled from her, and she was not happy about that. She... tortured him." She swallowed. "But she also found out that he had lost his memory due to a Geas Garius had put on him. He had to bring Garius back from the dead to regain his memory."

"Ah, I think some things are about to be explained."

"Well, long story short, we escaped, but later found out it had been Jaluth's plan all along. We revived Garius, and Bishop regained the memory of his past." Lana hesitated, then added, quietly: "And lost that of everything that happened in between."

"I see", said Sand, gently. "So he went back to being a foe after he had become..."

"A friend", Lana said, sadly. "He had become a friend."

"A friend. Of course. What else. Well, that at least explains why we found the body of Garius in front of our walls some days ago, seemingly just a few hours dead, his throat cut. But do tell me, how had that all been Jaluth's plan? That is the part I am _really_ anxious to hear."

"Well, she found out about the Geas. And she put a new one on him, but we did not know about that. Obviously she knew he would forget about everything when he regained his past... and she wanted that. She did not like his new self. Too... gentle for her tastes."

"Oh, that I _do_ believe."

"After we... well, after Bishop killed Garius again, she sent an image to explain that he would have to return to her, otherwise she would crush his heart. She demonstrated how she would do that." Lana swallowed again, remembering the moans of pain and Bishop's contorted face. "It was not pretty. And she told him to bring me along as well, else she would kill him slowly and painfully."

"That _does_ sound like her. She always was rather fond of pain. In my time in the Tower I did my very best not to run into her if I could avoid it. She always gave me goose bumps. Even the most powerful mages feared her. There were whispers she was something other than human, and I have to say, I did not find that hard to believe."

Lana shuddered. "Me, neither. I saw Bishop slit her throat, trying to escape, but the wound just healed, just like that. It was... frightening."

"Frightening... that seems to be putting it mildly. But I am not surprised about her healing powers. She always was rather eerie. So our dear ranger caught her fancy? I nearly pity him."

Lana stared into his face, but seeing the image of Bishop's abused body before her mental eye. "You don't know what she will do to him", she whispered. "Else you _would_ pity him. I do."

"You do?"

Her anger about the way he had treated her dissipated, Lana could not deny the pity was back. Full force.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, her decision made. "Yes", she said, taking Sand's hand and squeezing it. "I do. And I promised I would help him get away from her. Will you help me do that? I don't think I can do it alone."

"You promised to rescue our ranger in distress? Promised him?"

Lana smiled. "No. I promised Karnwyr."

Sand looked at her, slightly taken aback. "I see. Well, I guess, a promise made to a wolf is as good as any other... I think. Rest now, and tomorrow we will think of something to do. While I really have no great fondness for our dear Bishop, not even he deserves to be left to Jaluth's whims. Well, probably not even he. Maybe."

Lana lay back and closed her eyes. She knew she would not be able to sleep for some time. But she also knew the dream would not plague her again tonight.


	19. Plans

When Lana awoke the next morning, Sand was already gone. She stayed in bed for a long time, lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling, thinking over her situation again and again.

The conclusion she came to was: She had to stop.

Stop running from her pain, stop running from her life, stop running from her responsibilities. Should not have started running in the first place. Because some things, you just took them with you, wherever you went.

Best to start dealing with them. Then, maybe, someday she really could be free.

She heard voices approaching and sat up, wrapping the blanket around herself.

"I can't believe ye were not gonna tell me", a gruff voice said. "The lass back, and ye keepin' me in the dark. Fine sort of friend ye are, bookworm!"

Lana could not stop a huge smile appearing on her face. Of all her friends, she probably had missed Khelgar the most. The dwarf was blunt and bawdy, but so honest it bordered on brutality. Exactly her cup of tea.

She hopped out of bed and went over to the door the exact moment it opened from the outside, and Khelgar stormed in, his head turned back, still glowering at Sand, who followed him, an expression of long-suffering on his face, a stack of garments on his arms.

Before he turned around, Lana bent down and pressed a kiss on the bald top of Khelgar's head. He gave a surprised grunt and looked up at her, a reluctant grin appearing on what was visible of his face under his thick beard.

"Well, lass, decided to pay yer old friends a visit, have ye?", he asked, gruffly. "Very kind of ye. Not that we were worried, with that slip of paper ye left us, mind you, explainin' that ye'd be off and all."

She smiled down at him affectionately. "I'm sorry, Khelgar, I really am. It was very wrong of me, I know that now."

"Hrrrrmp. Ye do, do ye? Well, that's mighty nice of ye. And looks like ye've been running into mischief, as was to be expected with no one to look out fer ye. And then, coming back here and tellin' no one aboot it but that bookworm. Caught him sneakin' out of yer rooms with yer clothes, got him to tell me ye were back only by threatenin' to tell Kana aboot it. All the same, sneaky spell slingers."

Lana smiled at him again. "Well, I'm very happy you are here. We have a lot to talk about."

Sand fastened the bold at the door and turned to her, his eyebrows raised. "Am I right thinking that you are ready to face your responsibilities at last?"

She sighed and nodded. "Yes. I can't keep running forever, I realised that."

Sand shot her an ironic look she chose to ignore generously. "So shall I inform Kana of your arrival at last?"

Lana shook her head. "No, not yet", she said. "There's the other matter to take care of first. And as soon as that is dealt with, I will return to settle matters with Kana. And Nasher. I will get everything in order, and once I did that, I will resign officially from my post. No more running away, but I still don't think I want to be stuck here for the rest of my life. I'm just not the right person for this kind of job. And Kana would do so much better than me and be happy as a pig in the mud doing it. So why not let her have a go at it? I'm sure Nasher will see reason once I talk to him. Hells, he probably will be very happy as well, getting rid of the most inept Captain this Keep has ever seen. But the other matter... that can't wait. I'll have to deal with that first. And I hope you two are going to help me with it."

Khelgar squinted up at her, a sceptical expression on his face. "That was quite the long-winded speech, lass. And what would that other matter be, if ye don't mind me askin'?"

She nodded. "If I want your help, I have to tell you what it's all about, won't I?" She swallowed, suddenly not so eager to tell him anymore. Khelgar really had not liked Bishop very much...

"But I really would like some breakfast first", she said, smiling radiantly, knowing very well that she was just playing for time.

"Certainly, dear girl", Sand chimed in. "I will order some breakfast to my rooms, and you can tell our dwarf here while we wait."

Lana glowered at him, but he just opened the door and stepped outside with an innocent smile in her direction.

She shot him a withering glance he blithely ignored while he closed the door behind him. With another glittering smile at Khelgar she let herself fall on one of the chairs by the table, after putting the stack of books sitting on it down on the floor.

"And, what's been going on around here?", she asked airily.

Khelgar climbed the other chair, but left a few books on it so he would be level with her eyes. "Don't ye be playin' old Khelgar for a fool, girl", he grumbled. "I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, mind ye, but I'm no idiot. I know when I'm bein' distracted. So what is it ye don't wanna tell me?" He picked up a pitcher of water, eyed it with misgivings, but poured himself a glass. "Water! Damned bookworm!", he grumbled, raising the glass to his mouth.

Lana sighed. Might as well take the bull by the horns.

"I want you to help me rescue Bishop", she said bluntly.

Khelgar's eyes seemed to want to pop out of his head and he coughed violently, choking on his water.

"I think me ears are playin' tricks on me", he wheezed when he could talk again. "I just thought ye were telling me ye wanted to rescue that bloody ranger."

"That is because that was exactly what I was saying", she said, suppressing a grin.

The dwarf put his glass down so hard the water sloshed over the rim. Lana hastily mopped it up with the sleeve of the robe before it could reach any of the books on the table. Sand would have thrown a fit if he saw...

Khelgar eyed her suspiciously. "Lass, ye would not have been hit on the head as well as in the face, would ye? Because it seems to me that somethin's not quite right in yer skull."

Lana opened her mouth to answer him, but in that moment the door opened again and Sand entered, carrying a large tray with several plates on them. Lana hopped from her chair to help him, glad for the distraction.

"No need, dear girl, but if you could remove the books from the table... yes, thank you very much." Sand kicked the door closed behind him and put the tray down on the now book-free table.

"Listen, bookworm, do ye know what the lass is up to? She wants to go runnin' after that traitorous ranger, help him out of some scrape he's got himself into. Ye think all that hittin' could have done some damage to her brain? Her skull's not as thick as mine, mind ye, so maybe it shook her up good..."

But Sand seemed to be preoccupied with something very different. "You are sitting on my books!", he said, staring at the dwarf in disbelief, sounding scandalised.

"Yes, well, not my fault that this table is not proper height for a dwarf, is it?"

"Get off them! These are priceless founts of ancient wisdom, you... you _buffoon!_ They are not made for lifting up your behind!"

Khelgar rolled his eyes, but slid down the pile of books. "All right, all right, don't get yer knickers in a twist, elf. See, no harm done."

Sand snatched the books from the chair, carefully examining them for possible damage, then sniffed haughtily and put them lovingly on the floor.

Lana had followed the little interlude trying not to laugh, while she helped herself to a glass of milk and a sweet roll from the tray.

Chewing, she tried to explain the dwarf what the problem was and why she wanted to go after Bishop, only leaving some minor, completely irrelevant details out of the story. Like what really had happened between them. No need to burden Khelgar – or Sand – with those little nothingnesses, was there?

He did not seem impressed with her story at all, hrrrmping and huffing a lot while he made short work of his eggs and ham, eyeing the plate of the elf, who was picking delicately at his breakfast, with a predatory gleam in his eye. But he seemed to listen intently nonetheless, just complaining once or twice about the lack of ale on the table.

"So, ye want to run after that bugger to save him from his former girlfriend, eh? Can't say I see why ye would want to do that. Probably betrayed her, too. Let her have 'im, I say."

"She is _not_ his girlfriend, former or otherwise", Lana said sharply, feeling incensed by the suggestion for some reason. Ignoring Sand's amused glance, she continued: "She's an evil bitch who loves to torture people."

"Well, then, seems like quite the match to me", Khelgar said placidly.

Lana scowled at him. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know her. I'm not saying Bishop is Mr. Nice, but that Jaluth – she plays in a different league. Ask Sand, if you don't believe me."

Khelgar glanced at the elf, who just shrugged. "Our beloved Knight Captain is not wrong about this. Jaluth Alaerth is certainly one of the scarier people I've met in my comparatively long life. And that's counting our dear friend Garius into the equation."

"Hrrrmp. Didnt't think him so scary, that one. We killed him twice, after all. So what's so diff'rent aboot this Jaluth wench?"

"She's just evil. Completely ruthless. Loves inflicting pain. Sees other people as toys." Lana watched Khelgar open his mouth. " _And_ she can kill you with a snap of her fingers", she added.

Khelgar closed his mouth again to think for a moment. "Still can't see why I should be risking me butt to help him.", he said finally.

Lana sighed. "Because I ask you to?", she said.

Khelgar shook his head. "Had to put it like that, had ye? Fine, lass, I'm in. But I'm doing that for ye, not for that blasted backstabber, mind. So, what is it ye want me to do?"

She looked at Sand. "I don't know. Sand, do you have any ideas? You're much better than me at stuff like this. Is there any possibility to get that Geas _off_ him?"

Sand shrugged. "Certainly, dear girl. A Remove Curse spell works just fine, normally. But you said Jaluth modified the spell in some way. That makes things a little trickier. And I think... well, normally a Geas just compels you to do whatever it says. But in this case, she seems to be able to reach out and hurt him, even from a distance. There would have to be something... anything... he carries that acts like a beacon for her powers. Something that allows her to find him, wherever he is."

"But... can't she just scrye for him or something?"

"Well, yes, she could scrye for him, but that would not allow her powers to reach him. She would certainly be able to see him, and if she is lucky, she could recognise his surroundings, so she would know where he is in that moment. But since he's a ranger, that might be hard. One tree looks much like any other. So she would need something more. Something that lets her know his exact location, any time. Or, as I said, something that lets her powers home in on him, regardless of his location."

Khelgar grumbled and slipped from his chair. "As long as ye two are talking gibberish, might as well go and get me second helping of eggs. And some ale. It's not a decent breakfast without ale. When ye are finished with the theory, let me know where ye want me to hit."

He gave Lana a "tender" pat on the back. She nearly choked on her bite of the roll and coughed hard. "Anyway, good ye're back safely", he grumbled, and stomped out of the door.

As soon as the door had closed after the dwarf, Sand settled back in his chair, lifting his cup of herbal tea to his mouth. After taking a delicate sip, he eyed Lana and asked: "So, do you have any ideas yet, Knight Captain?"

She wrinkled her nose at the title, but did not swallow the bait. "Nothing specific yet", she answered. "So you think you could remove the Geas, if we found Bishop?"

"Which, knowing him, could be a more difficult task than the removal of the Geas", the wizard said dryly. "But yes, I think I could remove it, given a bit of time and study, to see which modifications Jaluth has made. So, how do you intend to find our ranger?"

Lana smiled brightly. "Oh, I don't intend to find him", she said. And, grinning into Sand's frown, she added: "I think we'll let him come to us."

Sand's mouth twitched slightly. "And you think he will do that, do you?"

She leaned forward. "Would you think that the Geas would force him to look for me, since it tells him to bring me to Jaluth?"

The frown was back on the elf's face. "I would think so. If he knew where you were, he would not have a choice but to try and fetch you."

"So", she said. "We'll let him know where I am. He has to come and look for me, and voilà: Ranger on a silver platter."

Still frowning, Sand said: "Yes – but as well as it would force him to come to you, the Geas would force Bishop to try and drag you to Jaluth. And that's not what we want – or is it?"

Lana shuddered at the thought. "Oh no, that's definitely not what we want. But that's where Khelgar comes into play. And you as well, I think. Somehow, we'll have to subdue him without harming him. I'm afraid I won't be much help, my Magic might be a little bit to... offensive for that purpose."

"And what about the wolf?"

Lana thought for a moment. "Well, I certainly don't want to hurt Karnwyr. Even if Bishop's a bastard, Karnwyr is a decent... wolf. And he helped me escape. Without him, I would be looking into Jaluth's lovely countenance right now, I'm afraid. But I hope he will let us take his master without fighting us, because I managed to convince him I wanted to help Bishop."

Sand sighed. "I guess I better prepare Hold Animal then as well as Hold Person. Or would Hold Monster be more appropriate in the case of our ranger? Would not do to make a mistake there."

Lana shot him a reprehensive glance but had to giggle nonetheless.

"So, how do you intend to let him know where you are? A Sending?", the elf continued.

She nodded. "Yes. We used it to keep in contact all the time during our campaign against the King of Shadows, so Bishop will know what it is if I start talking in his head. And hopefully he'll come to us."

"And where would you have him go? Here?"

She thought that over for a while. "No", she finally said. "I don't think that would be a good idea. This is enemy territory as far as Bishop is concerned. He would expect an ambush here. He would be very, very careful. That would complicate things to no end. No, I think we better tell him to meet me at the Hart and Horn on the road from Neverwinter to Waterdeep." Noticing Sand's raised eyebrows she added: "That was where I met him... then. While his memory was gone."

For a moment she sat, brooding, lost in her thoughts of that meeting and what had followed it, then resolutely shook herself out of the reverie. "How long do you think it will take, to find out what exactly that harpy did to him, and to undo it?"

Sand shrugged. "I don't know, really. Depends how complicated the... modifications are. Hours. Maybe a day or two. Hopefully not more."

Lana chewed her lip. "Where do we stay? We'll have to keep him tied or something, because the Geas will force him to grab me and drag me into the Dragon's lair if he has the opportunity. We can't hold him prisoner in an Inn. Someone would notice for sure."

The wizard smiled smugly. "Ah, dear girl, as always you underestimate the possibilities proper magic offers, compared to that... blundering you call casting. That won't be a problem, believe me."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Master. And what do you have in mind, wise one? Pray, enlighten this poor dabbler in all things magic."

He looked at her down his nose. "Sarcasm can't touch me, girl. If you had concentrated on your studies, the words Leomund's Secure Shelter would not be totally foreign to your ears. You just show me a free spot of ground, and I show you a cottage. With beds. And a fireplace."

Lana grinned. "Well then, that's settled. So the only thing left to do is to lure Bishop to the Inn, catch him, find out what Jaluth has done to him and remove it."

Sand returned her smile. "Just like that, yes? A walk in the park, as they say."

She laughed. "Hardly. But after we dealt with the King of Shadows, we can deal with Bishop, right?"

The wizard sighed. "If you say so. Very well, we'll go ahead and hope for the best. We'll make preparations today, and I will write a scroll of Sending for you, since it will have to be you casting the spell. If I did it, it _might_ raise some suspicion."

Lana nodded in consent and started to think of the message she was going to send to the ranger.

If he wanted, he could even send her a reply.

Now, why did the thought make her heart flutter ever so slightly?


	20. Hunter and Hunted

_**Hunter and Hunted** _

 

Lana leaned back against the rought trunk of an oak tree. Around her, the forest was gloomy and filled with a soft rustling noise as the warm summer rain was dripping through the leaves. A couple of steps ahead, she could see Khelgar’s and Sand’s hooded figures peer through the undergrowth to the road in front of the Hart and Horn, waiting for Bishop to make his appearance. She herself had stayed back, because she would be of little use in the coming fight, besides giving the other two the advantage of faster movement.

It was the third day they were waiting. And Lana was getting impatient. Was the ranger coming here at all? Or had they been completely wrong about the Geas forcing him to come after her? She was sure he had gotten her message, telling him she would be waiting for him here. But he had not sent her a reply. The fact still was galling her.

_Typical. No manners. Could at least have said... well, something!_

She closed her eyes and let the warm rain hit her face, trying to relax a bit. Hopefully Bishop would turn up today at last. And the weather made sure there were not many wanderers underway, so chances were good they would be able to capture him without any witnesses or meddlers getting in the way...

Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth, pulling her backwards roughly, against a hard shoulder, and something cold and sharp pressed against her throat.

“Don’t even twitch!” a very familiar voice whispered into her ear, his tone icy, but his breath warm and tickling her skin. 

Lana shivered unvoluntarily, but kept still, her eyes flying open to look for the other two. Maybe they had heard...

But they had not, they still were concentrating on the road, their backs turned to her. Could not blame them, she herself had not heard a single sound when he approached.

_Damned sneaky bastard._

“Nice little ambush, _Captain_ ”, he continued, still in that very low whisper. “You really thought I would be stupid enough to walk right into your very obvious trap? I thought you knew me better.”

Lana kept staring desperately at the backs of her companions, willing them to notice something was amiss, willing them to turn, but they just looked ahead, completely unaware of her predicament.

“Now”, Bishop said, “we will move slowly and very quietly backwards. Don’t try anything stupid, this dagger I have at your throat is very sharp, understood? Every clumsy movement might lead to a nasty cut.”

He started to move, quietly and catlike, and pulled her with him. She looked wildly around while she had no choice but to follow, and saw Karnwyr standing just a few steps away, watching them with his ears flattened against his neck. He did not look like a happy wolf.

Then, after a few steps, she slipped on a root hidden under the leaves on the ground, slick with rain, and inhaled sharply as the blade indeed nicked her skin at the unexpected movement.

Before her, Sand and Khelgar turned at the sound, and Bishop cursed and started to drag her backwards more quickly. 

“Tyr’s right buttock!”, Khelgar roared and lifted his impressive greataxe menacingly. “Sneaky bugger! Can’t ye use the road like any reasonable person? Release her, scumbag, or I’ll have yer hide!”

Sand said nothing, but his eyes narrowed as he seemed to ponder his options.

“Big words, runty”, Bishop scoffed. “But if I were you, I’d stay very put. Especially you, elf. No muttering, no mumbling. In case you have not noticed, I hold a dagger to your Captain’s throat. And you know me, I never bluff.”

The dwarf let out another angry roar. “I’ll tear ye apart if ye hurt her, ye son of a filthy whore!”

“Maybe”, Bishop sneered. “But she would be just as dead.”

Lana could hear Khelgars teeth gnashing even from the distance, but the dwarf stayed where he was. Sand was also standing still, just watching the slow retreat with a glimmer in his eye.

_They can’t do anything! I have to help myself!_

Panicked, heart beating madly, Lana tried to think of anything while she was being dragged deeper into the dripping forest. She had to do something, could not let him simply catch her. The implications if he managed to bring her back to Jaluth...

_No! No way!_

But what could she do?

A soft, whining noise caught her attention, and her eyes snapped back to Karnwyr, who was following them some steps away, still looking extemely unhappy. She stared at him, hard, and he stared back, whining again.

 _Help me_ , she tried to tell him with her eyes.

He kept her gaze for some seconds, then disappeared from her field of view. Lana closed her eyes in defeat for a moment, but suddenly, there was a dull sound of impact, and wet grey fur grazed Lana’s face as Karnwyr jumped his master, coming from the side. Bishop’s grip on her loosened, while he cried out in surprise, cursed and tried to get his footing again. Another dull sound, and he yelled as he hit the ground.

Without looking, Lana ran back into the direction of Sand and Khelgar, who were running to catch up now. Khelgar charged and raced right past her. 

Lana, hand at her injured throat, whirled around just in time to see the dwarf crashing into Bishop, just as he was trying to get to his feet again, spewing vile curses at his companion. Karnwyr was slinking away, his tail between his legs, looking miserable.

Sand, pushing past her too, stopped some steps further and started muttering an arcane formula, his hands weaving obscure patterns into the air. Bishop rolled nimbly to his feet, ducking under a halfhearted swing of Khelgar’s greataxe. The dwarf did not really try to hit the ranger, just to keep him occupied.

“Hurry, bookworm!”, he yelled.

Bishop jumped up and turned, preparing to run, knowing very well that he had not the slightest chance, fighting fight those three opponents at the same time.

“He’s gettin’ away!”, Khelgar hollered.

“I _hate_ people resisting my spells”, Lana heard Sand mumble waspishly. 

_Time do do something – don’t just stand around gawking!_

Accompanied by the familiar whispering, Lana conjured up her powers, allowing her and her friends much faster movement. Suddenly, Khelgar had no problems catching up with Bishop, and with another roar, charged again, throwing the ranger forcefully against the massive trunk of a nearby tree.

Sand had moved a bit forward and started casting again, while Bishop shook himself, slightly dazed. Suddenly, he got very still. Sand closed the remaining distance, with Lana on his heels.

“At last”, the dwarf said, turning to them. “What took ye so long, bookworm?”

Sand just threw Khelgar a poisonous glance, not deigning to answer.

Lana stepped up and looked at Bishop, who stood frozen, not able to move a muscle, held by the spell, but she shivered at the fury burning in his eyes. They promised murder – and they were fixed on her.

_Guess he don’t like me anymore._

“Khelgar, bind him”, she said, quietly, turning her eyes away, wondering at the sudden ache in her heart. “Before the spell runs out.”

Khelgar grumbled and started to rummage through his backpack, taking out a length of rope. Then he quickly and efficiently tied Bishop up.

Lana turned to Sand. “Let’s find a place for that cottage of yours and start working”, she said. “I want this over as quickly as possible.”

Sand gave her a short, piercing glance, but then his eyes went soft, as if he had seen something on her face. He nodded. 

“I’ll do my best”, he promised with a sigh.

xxx

Come nightfall, Lana was sitting on a cot in a surprisingly roomy cabin, with a couple of sleeping places, a table with jug and washing bowl, and a small fireplace with a crackling fire. She knew she would not be able to sleep, so she had volunteered for first watch.

Some steps away, Khelgar was lying on his back, snoring like a bear. Next to him, Sand was sleeping.

And next to the cot Lana was sitting on, Bishop was lying with his eyes closed, still tied up securely. Sand had put a sleeping spell on him, and he had not moved since.

Lana stared at his face in the dim light of the fire and felt miserable like she had not for a long time. He looked so different asleep. Softer, the harsh, angry lines gone as his face relaxed, he seemed much younger, more innocent, and very vulnerable. 

He looked like the man she had come to... like.

She felt tears rise, stinging the corners of her eyes, and blinked rapidly. Trying to make no noise, she slipped from the cot to kneel down next to the one he was lying on. She reached out with a trembling hand, stopping short from touching his cheek. Thinking better of it, she retracted her hand, but it seemed such a hard thing to do. She longed to touch him so much...

_He’ll wake. It’s just a sleeping spell – he’ll wake if you touch him._

She continued to stare at him, the shadows of the flickering fire dancing over his face, and her eyes followed the line of his muscular neck, over his throat, exposed in sleep, down to what little was visible of his chest through the loosened lacings of his shirt. They had removed his armour, to make him more comfortable, and now some mahogany locks could be seen, curling under the fabric...

She swallowed and ripped her eyes away, repressing the urge to run her hand through those short, wiry curls, forcing her gaze to return to the safer location of his face. His lips had parted slightly and he sighed in his sleep, and again she was reminded so forcefully of the gentler man she had known that it sent a stab of pain through her, so intense that she could not hold back her tears any longer, and the drops started running silently down her cheeks.

“Are you in there, somewhere?”, she whispered,. “Is there anything left of you? Or are you really gone, lost to me forever?”

She wiped some tears away, her vision getting blurry. “I miss you”, she said quietly, the sadness choking her voice. “I miss you so much.”

Finally not able to stand it any longer, having him so close, but knowing that it was not _him_ anymore, that the moment he woke, the anger and spite would be back in his eyes, erasing all resemblance with the man she missed, she got up and turned to the door, suddenly feeling like she was suffocating, needing fresh air.

She stepped outside as quietly as possible and sat down, ignoring the dampness that seeped through her clothes from the ground, leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

She would have to learn to deal with it. She had learned to deal with the loss of Casavir – well, sort of – so she certainly would be able to deal with the loss of Bishop. He was not the love of her life, after all. Just someone she had come to regard as a friend.

A rustling noise startled her and she jumped up, but relaxed when she saw it was only Karnwyr, approaching her, tail still between his legs, a picture of wolfy misery.

She sat down again and extended her hand to him. “Furface”, she said, softly. “Come here.”

He padded up to her, whining, and she stroked his head. “Don’t worry”, she said. “You did the right thing. We’ll help him, you’ll see. We will free him of that spell, and he will not be angry with you anymore. I promise.”

The wolf made a snorting noise, as if expressing serious doubts, but laid down next to her, his head in her lap. She stroked his still slightly damp fur, smelling strongly and not entirely pleasantly of wet wolf, and was reminded of the countless times she had snuggled up to Karnwyr when they made camp for the night, burying her hands in his soft grey fur, while Bishop sat at the fire, watching them with a smile on his face.

Not able to repress it any longer, Lana put her face in her hands and cried.


	21. Armistice

After a while, Lana heard light footsteps approaching and hastily looked up, to see Sand leave the cabin and approach her. She tried to inconspicuously wipe her face, not wanting Sand to see, ashamed of being caught in a moment of weakness like that, but the elf sat down next to her with a sigh.

“I can see quite well at night”, he remarked. “No use trying to fool me, dear girl.”

Lana stubbornly refused to reply, and he sighed again. “Lana”, he said, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. “I don’t know what happened between him and you, and I confess I really don’t want to. There are images I definitely can live without. But it’s quite obvious that you care deeply for him, and while I admit I can’t rightly see why that is, there’s no shame in it, and there’s no shame in crying. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Life does that all on its own without needing you to help it along.”

The last comment forced a small chuckle out of her, despite her misery. “I miss him, Sand”, she said, her voice thick from crying. “Not the bastard sleeping inside, but the man he was during those weeks. I don’t want him gone. And how can I miss him so much, when I’m supposed to be true to Casavir?” Her voice broke, and she swallowed. “What kind of woman am I to forget him so quickly? He’s only gone for six months...”

Lana could only feel Sand shaking his head, because she was staring firmly at her updrawn knees, her other hand still buried in Karnwyr’s fur.

“What kind of woman you are? One that is alive, I would say. Really, girl, you should not been so hard on yourself. I know you have not forgotten Casavir, and I know you never will. You truly loved him. But harsh as it may sound, life goes on, even if loved ones die. Believe me, I know. I’ve been around long enough to make that experience more than once. We feel guilty, because we are alive when they had to die, and we feel guilty when we even want to live on without them. But you should ask yourself: What would Casavir want you to do? Would he want you to wither? Or would he want you to be brave and go on living?”

Lana laughed hoarsely. “You sound like an echo of Bishop.”

“Well then, seems like the version you met had a lot more wisdom in him than the one I know. Unless, as I would guess, he had a reason for saying this.”

Lana shook her head, sad smile on her face. “Strangely? No, he hadn’t. At least, not the one you’re thinking of. He just wanted to comfort me, like you.”

_And I have ripped his head off for trying._

“Astonishing”, Sand remarked. “And hard to imagine. But I’ll take your word on it. You always had his measure, and I doubt he would have been able to fool you for long. But that’s beside the point. Which is that you should not feel guilty for being alive.”

“Daeghun stayed true to Shayla, even though she’s been dead for decades”, Lana said, miserably. Was her love for Casavir so much less than that of her foster father for his wife?

“Then the next question you must ask yourself is: Do you want to end up like Daeghun?”, Sand replied sharply. “A broken, empty shell of a man? So dead inside he could not even allow himself to love the child he had taken in?”

“He is not like that”, Lana protested, if a bit weakly. 

“With all due respect to your foster father, girl, stop regarding his holding on to his dead wife as a heroic deed. And stop trying to live up to it. There’s no _use_ in living in the past. It only means the present passes you by. That might not be so bad for an elf, because they live for a long time. But you are human, my dear. You have to get on with your life, else it will be over before you even realise it. There is a time for mourning those we lost, but there is also a time to let them go.”

“Why are you awake anyhow?”, Lana asked, desperately trying to change the subject. She knew she had to come to terms with the mess that were her emotions. But not just now.

Sand snorted. “That dwarf snores loud enough to wake every creature in this forest. I wonder my spell manages to keep Bishop asleep with all that noise. And don’t think I did not notice you changing the subject.”

“Sorry”, she said softly. “But I can’t think about it right now. And I can’t deal with Bishop. It’s...” She faltered, but then continued. “It’s just so hard to have all those memories... and look into his face and see a stranger looking back. It hurts, Sand. Gods help me, but it hurts to know he does not remember... anything.”

Wordlessly, Sand put his arm around her, and she rested her head against his shoulder and cried quietly for some time. It seemed she did a lot of that lately. Crying, that was.

_What happened to “I’ll never cry over a man again”?_

_I won’t. As soon as a finish with this crying fit._

But she could not help it. It seemed that since she started to give in to her pain and accept comfort from Bishop, her grip on herself was not what it had been. And even if he was not Bishop, Sand’s presence was so comforting. Everything about him, his soft, murmuring voice, the reassuring arm around her shoulders, and his smell, the familiar smell of old books and candle wax with a slight, acrid undercurrent of whatever strange substances he used in his laboratory, just spelled friend. 

And if Lana had learned anything from her short time with Bishop, it was that friends were a precious commodity. And that she had been foolish to throw it away when she ran from the Keep. Foolish to run in the first place instead of turning to her friends for help, the friends that had been with her through everything, standing firmly by her side no matter what. She had repaid them poorly for their trust and their loyalty.

“Thank you”, she said, thickly. “And sorry.”

“For what, dear girl?”, Sand asked lightly, patting her shoulder.

“For being my friend. For being there for me. And sorry for the anxiety I must have caused you. I never should have run away like I did. It was childish, and stupid. I know that now.”

Sand laughed quietly. “Wonders never cease, it seems. The time with our ranger truly has changed you. You have grown up.” He patted her shoulder again. “I’ll try to help him, for your sake. I’ll try to free him from the lovely Overwizard of the North. Besides, it will be a pleasure to put a spoke in her wheel, so to say. I just hope he’ll use his new found freedom wisely.”

“I doubt it”, Lana said sadly. “But thank you nonetheless.”

“Don’t mention it, dear girl”, Sand replied, getting up and extending his hand to her. “Come on. You should try to get some sleep. I’ll take watch now, and if I manage to wake that oaf of a dwarf up later, I might catch some sleep myself.”

Lana stroked Karnwyr’s head a last time and got up. “Come with us inside?”, she asked the wolf, but he only whined and put his head back on his paws. She sighed. “I understand”, she said. “But give it some time. He’ll forgive you. You’ll see.”

Karnwyr whined again, sounding unconvinced, and not knowing what else to say, Lana turned to follow Sand inside. Laying down on her cot, painstakingly avoiding to glance at the sleeping ranger, she doubted she would find any sleep at all.

xxx

Waking up the next morning, grey light filtering through the small window of the cabin, Lana felt a bit surprised that she indeed seemed to have had a good night’s rest. A few suspicious grains of white sand on her pillow indicated that Sand had decided to help matters along, though.

For a moment Lana contemplated getting angry with the elf, but in the end decided not to bother. The wizard had been right, she had needed the rest. She probably should thank him, not yell at him.

She grinned a bit, imagining the surprise on his face if she did and sat up, glancing around. The cabin was empty, except for Bishop, still lying on his cot, securely bound, but his eyes were open now, and fixed on her, the expression on his face dark and thoroughly unwelcoming.

She swallowed and turned away, trying to ignore the sudden pain in her chest.

“How did you do it?”, he asked, his voice cold.

She refused to look at him, not wanting to see the hate burning in his eyes. “Do what?”, she asked, softly.

“Turn him against me. What do you think I’m talking about? How?”

“I didn’t”, she replied, still not looking at him.

He snorted. “Like hell you didn’t. He _attacked_ me. To save _your_ hide. Just let me get my hands on him. I’ll make him regret it. A damn traitor, that’s what he is.”

“Gee”, Lana could not stop herself from saying. “Wonder where he gets that from.”

He made a choking noise and she looked at him at last, just in time to see him fight the twitching of his mouth. “Watch it, _Captain_ ”, he said, but the cold look in his eyes had thawed a bit with genuine amusement.

Irrationally encouraged by that, she got up and sat down next to him, a small smile twisting the corners of her mouth. “You know”, she said conversationally, “you’re not exactly in the position to threaten anyone.”

This time, he answered her smile, if somewhat wryly. “Granted”, he said. “Seems like this time, I’m at _your_ mercy. Guess I best behave myself. So what do you intend to do with your prisoner, _Captain_?”

“Sand will try to free you from Jaluth’s spell”, she said.

His eyes widened, but his face remained carefully impassive. “That so? A mission of charity, then. How sweet. And why would he do that? As far as I remember, he never was very fond of me. And neither were you, if I recall correctly.”

She could not meet his probing gaze and averted her eyes. “Does it matter?”, she asked.

“Indulge me”, he replied.

She was silent for long moments, racking her brain for something she could tell him, then settled for half truth. “Let’s just say it’s for old times sake”, she said, returning her eyes to his face, though her heart was heavy. “We have been through a lot together.”

_And we have. Even if he does not remember._

“Yes”, he said dryly. “But we did not part on the best of terms. Both times. So why, _Captain_?”

She felt the urge to run her hand over his cheek and through his soft hair. Speaking to him like this, on nearly friendly terms, was so confusing. She knew exactly that things would change abruptly if he ever got his hands free, but could not help but feel the old tenderness rise as she met his clear, questioning gaze. It was so hard not to forget how much things had changed, and that the man she had considered a friend was gone...

_Stupid, Lana. Stupid. He would not hesitate to hurt you if he could, and you know it._

“I never gave up on you”, she said, eventually, her voice soft. “Even when you turned on me. I know you can be a better man. I know you _are_ a better man than you let yourself be. And I won’t leave you to her clutches.”

It was his time to avert his face, to avoid her eyes. “You’re wrong”, he said, with the barest hint of bitterness in his voice. “As I told you, for every one like you, there’s hundreds like me. So don’t delude yourself. I’m not some lost lamb that just had the misfortune to stumble down the wrong path. I made choices, and I knew very well what I was doing. I’m exactly what I seem to be.”

She shook her head, the urge to touch his face soothingly nearly overwhelming. “I don’ believe that. More, I _know_ that’s not true.”

He shrugged, an awkward motion with his hands tied. “Suit yourself. But that’s a very different tune from what you sang before, isn’t it?”

She cast down her eyes, not answering, and heard him snort. “Seems like you’re not so sure of what you’re saying yourself. Good on you. I was starting to think hitting you left some permanent damage.”

She let that pass without further comment. How could she have explained to him that she had _seen_ his other side? That she had seen the man he could be if he would just let himself be free from whatever garbage he was dragging around from his past? Might be that he made his choices willingly, knowing exactly what he was doing. That did not mean he was happy with himself.

That was something even she could sense clearly when he had confronted them at Garius’ side, when he had hurled the story of his past at them, like one would hurl rotten eggs, full of anger, full of spite. But she just knew that deep down, he was angry not with them, that his hate was directed at himself. The bitterness was something he had not been able to keep out of his voice. 

In that moment she had understood that he was trapped by himself, forced down a path more destructive to himself than anyone else, because deep down, the only thing he really wanted was to be free of himself, destroy himself. That he probably even hoped to die, so he could leave those chains he had wrapped around himself behind him at last.

As he nearly had done before Duncan dragged him back. Which was what he had never been able to forgive. Not that he _owed_ Duncan. He could have shrugged that off easily. What was a debt to him, anyway? Since when did he feel beholden to things like that?

No. That wasn’t it at all. But as he said, dying, he had felt free for the first time. And Duncan had robbed him of that freedom. And that was why he hated her uncle so much.

That was what set Bishop’s betrayal apart from that of the brat Qara. The arrogant sorceress didn’t have the mental capacity to be given to any kind of self reflection. The only thing she had been bitter about was that she felt herself treated badly because she had been told to get a grip on those childish temper tantrums of hers. 

There had been no doubt, no hesitation, not an ounce of that self-awareness that was reflected in the bitter tone of Bishop’s voice. There had been only smugness and gloating at the prospect of showing her former companions what they got for not taking her seriously.

Which was why the brat had died, and Bishop had walked away.

She realised that what she had said to him was true: She had not given up on him. Not even then. And she would not now. Not after she had seen his other self.

And it had to be his _true_ self, hadn’t it...? After all, Garius had not given him a different personality. He just had taken away his memories. So the man she had met must be the _real_ Bishop, the one he would have been if things had been different...

“ _Captain_? You still in there?”, his voice reached her ear, and she jumped slightly as she was pulled form her daydream.

“Huh?”, she said, brilliantly.

He grinned. “A copper for your thoughts.”

“There’s no amount of gold that can buy _my_ thoughts”, she replied with a smirk.

He threw his head back and laughed, a true laugh, the rare sound making her heart flutter. As it always had done. Even when she did not like him much.

“Oh _Captain_ ”, he said, still chuckling. “That sassy mouth of yours is really priceless.” He regarded her with a strange glitter in his eyes. “Sometimes I think it’s a shame you did not run off with me”, he added suddenly. “I swear, you’re the only woman I ever met that hasn’t bored me to death after thirty seconds.”

Lana smiled weakly, her heart feeling heavy. “That’s because you wanted to _choke_ me to death after thirty seconds every time we talked.” 

He grinned. “True, but still”, he replied.

“Don’t be hard on Karnwyr”, she said, abruptly. “He did not do it to save _my_ hide. He did it to save yours. He knew we wanted to try and remove the Geas.”

His eyes narrowed. “That so? And how would he know that?”

“Because I promised him I’d come back and free you of it if he helped me escape”, she answered, meeting his gaze squarely.

Bishop whistled. “So that’s how you got rid of the bonds, huh? I already was afraid I was losing my edge. Turns out my companion went behind my back.”

“He really didn’t”, she said seriously, staring hard into his eyes. “He would not help me before I told him I was no use to you as a captive. But I convinced him that helping me meant helping you.”

He kept silent, and she repeated: “Be easy on him. He feels miserable anyway.”

“As he should”, he grumbled, but averted his eyes.

“You should thank him”, she said sharply. “Without him, we both would probably be halfway back to Jaluth by now.”

She saw him shudder at the mention of the name, and he sighed and returned his gaze to her. “Fine”, he said. “I won’t be angry with him.” He paused, and a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. “But only because I prefer being tied to your bed instead of hers”, he added, grinning lewdly.

She suppressed an answering grin and slapped him lightly. “Stop that”, she said.

“Oooh yes, hit me”, he moaned.

“You’re a pig, Bishop”, she replied, but could not completely repress a giggle.

“See?”, he said. “We’ve been talking for fifteen minutes now, and I still don’t feel like choking you.”

“If you’re trying to sweet talk me into untying you, give it up”, she grinned.

His face turned serious, the playful smile wiped away. “Don’t”, he said heavily, his eyes boring into hers. “Whatever you do, don’t untie me, you hear?”

She was taken aback from the sudden turn in his mood, and noticing that, he added: “As long as I’m helpless, the Geas keeps quiet. But I know that as soon as you release me, it will force me to act on it again.” His face grew dark. “Believe me, I don’t want that any more than you do.”

“What’s it like?”, she asked softly. “What does it feel like? The Geas?”

He shuddered again, and the horror on his face was very real. “It _hurts_ ”, he said, coarsely. “Hurts like a bitch.I never thought anything could hurt so bad. It’s like... I don’t know. Being eaten from the inside out. By millions of worms with _very_ sharp teeth. When I try to act against it, it _hurts_. And on top of that, Jaluth can crush my heart whenever she feels like it.” He laughed humourlessly. “In the literal sense.” His eyes met Lana’s and an unhappy smile played around his mouth. “When she found out I let you escape – let’s just say she got testy. I still wonder how I survived. Guess she just wanted to have a bit more _fun_ with me.” There was a noticeable tremor in his voice. “Those were _not_ the most happy moments of my life, let me tell you.”

Lana called herself a fool, but her heart was breaking from the raw and naked fear in his eyes, a rare glimpse behind the cool, impassive mask of indifference he usually wore. She could not help it. The only thing she wanted to do was hug him close, comfort him, stroke his hair and tell him everything would be right again. Bloody stupid, it was. The only thing trying to comfort him would get her was a dagger between the ribs. If he could move, that was. She shook herself out of it.

“We’ll remove the spell”, she said more firmly than she felt. “Sand will find a way.”

Bishop’s eyes bored into hers. “I hope so, _Captain_ ”, he said, quietly, but deadly serious. “Because if he can’t – I hope you’ll have the guts to slit my throat.”

Lana swallowed, feeling the colour drain from her face. Slit his throat...? He couldn’t be serious... He couldn’t want... No, no, she could not...

“ _Captain_ ”, he repeated, his voice insistant, his eyes still fixed on hers. “I can’t... I _can’t_ go back. _Please_. If the wizard can’t remove the spell, promise me, go ahead and kill me.”

Lana stared at him, horrified, her mind blank, not knowing what to answer.

She was spared from the necessity when there was a sudden plopping noise as the cabin disappeared around them and Bishop, lying bound on a cot that was no longer there, hit the ground with a thud.


	22. Marks

„Bloody, snivelling mage!“, Bishop cursed, after the back of his head hit the ground with a painful thud. “Can’t he renew his spells before they expire? Damned good-for-nothing spellslingers!”

Lana repressed a snicker at his fury and looked around. It had started raining again during the night, and water was dripping from the trees that surrounded them, making for a constant, soft noise. The air smelled clean and fresh, the scent of moist earth and leaves was prominent in Lana’s nose.

The kind of earthy scent she had come to associate with Bishop.

Her amusement dwindling, making way for the heaviness that somehow seemed her constant companion by now, she stood and looked around, searching for Khelgar and Sand. The elf was nowhere in sight, but she could see the dwarf sitting some yards away, his back to a tree, a broad grin on his bearded face as he regarded the swearing, bound man on the ground.

Lana walked over to him and set down at his side. He nodded in greeting, but did not say a word.

“Where’s Sand?”, Lana asked.

Khelgar shrugged. “Back at the Keep. He had a look at our friend there this morn”, he pointed his chin in Bishop’s direction, “and said he’d need some books from the library. Said he’d jump over and be back soon.” He snorted. “We all know what “soon” means when that bookworm gets close to anything with a back and a cover and pages in between.”

Lana smiled. The dwarf was not wrong. If Sand got lost in some book, his return could take a while. But if he brought back something that helped, it was well worth the wait.

“So, why are you sitting outside in the rain?”, she asked, curiously.

The dwarf harrumped. “Keeping meself away from temptation”, he grumbled.

Lana looked at him in surprise, not getting his meaning. Khelgar shrugged and indicated once more in Bishop’s direction.

“Blasted turncoat over there. Lying all helpless and nicely bound, so all it would take was one righteous blow to his ugly noggin’. ‘Twas more than one dwarf could take, all the more when he kept staring at me with those eerie eyes of his. Daring me to do it, I tell ye. And I was in a right mood to, either. So I decided to get some air.” He glanced at Lana’s face. “Knew ye would not be happy if I put him out of his misery. Even if he deserves it.”

Lana clasped her hands in her lap and looked down at them. “No”, she said, quietly. “I would not have been happy.”

“Well, lass, I’m sure ye’ve got yer reasons and all, but let this old man give ye some advice: That boy is bad news. Knew it when we first clapped eyes on him in yer uncle’s tavern. More, ye knew it, too. Ye’ve always had the good sense to keep him at arm’s length. So what I can’t help but wonder is: What’s changed? He’s still the same measly weasel, so it can’t be him.”

The heaviness seemed to increase in Lana’s heart. “No”, she said, feeling that cursed sting back in her eyes. “He has not changed. It’s me. I’ve changed.”

“Well”, Khelgar rumbled. “I can see that ye’re a might calmer these days. Have not bitten my nose off for sticking it where it don’t belong yet, and that just shows ye. But what’s that got to do with the traitor?”

_Oh great – heart on heart with Sand yesterday, another one with Khelgar today… joy._

Still staring at her clasped hands, she said: “Let’s just say I found out some things that made me think he deserves a second chance.”

There was a slight plopping sound, just as Khelgar raised his voice. “Second chance? Don’t make me laugh, lass. That bugger has used up his fourth, fifth _and_ sixth chance long ago. Have ye forgotten what he did? Have ye forgotten how many died because of him?” The dwarf’s voice seemed to gain volume with every sentence. 

Out of the corners of her eyes, Lana saw Bishop raise his head from the ground and stare into their direction, his face its usual impenetrable mask.

A large bag was set to the ground next to her, and a hand squeezed her shoulder, just as the first tear fell to her hands.

“Quiet, ignoramus. She has forgotten nothing”, Sand’s calm voice said. “She has her reasons for doing what she does, and I for my part accept it. As you did when you agreed to help. So if you stopped trying to alert anyone in within the distance of ten miles to our presence, I for my part would be very grateful.”

Khelgar glared at the elf. “And I suppose ye know her reasons, do ye, bookworm?”

“Yes”, Sand answered rather smugly. “I do indeed.”

Khelgar harrumphed. “Well, no one tells an old dwarf anything.”

Lana swallowed. “I will, Khelgar. This is... kind of hard to talk about. But I will when we get back to the Keep.”

“Well, guess I’d have to be happy with that, as it’s all I’m going to get”, the dwarf grumbled, but sounded slightly mollified.

“Your hut disappeared, Sand”, Lana stated the obvious, desperate for a change of subject.

“Yes, well, I got delayed and it seems the duration of the spell expired”, Sand said, slightly apologetic. “But I think I found some books that might be helpful. And I brougth some ingredients that I think I will need. I’ll just renew the spell. Khelgar, if you could remove our guest from the place of the hut, maybe...?”

“Typical”, the dwarf complained, but got to his feet. “Heavy lifting, that’s all I’m good for.”

“I’m so glad we agree on something at last”, Sand said silkily. 

Khelgar shot him a poisonous glance, stomped over to where Bishop lay and unceremoniously dragged him aside by his feet.

“Hey!” Bishop yelled, when his head connected painfully with the ground. “Watch it, stupid oaf!”

Lana could not help but giggle a bit despite her sorrows and looked up at Sand, who smiled down on her and winked once. Then he turned, chanted a few words, moving his hands in an intricate pattern through the air, and the hut reformed before Lana’s eyes. 

“Get him inside”, Sand commanded.

“You’re not dragging me through that door!”, Bishop exclaimed, as Khelgar turned to the cabin, ranger still in tow. “Hear me? You’re _not_ dragging me... ow! OW! STOP IT! Bloody bullheaded dwarf!” They disappeared through the door, as Bishop bumped over the threshold.

Lana leaned back against the tree, a smile on her face as she inexplicably felt better.

xxx

She could not say how long she had been leaning against the tree, listening to the soft dripping of water all around, the sound soothing to the tumult in her soul, and the occasional chanting from inside the hut, accompanied by weird flashes of light now and then.

She closed her eyes, letting the past months pass revue in her mind, trying to come to terms with the twists her life had taken.

Losing so many of her friends. Losing Casavir, her love. Feeling trapped, suffocating in her role as Knight Captain. Taking the coward’s way out, skedaddling. Meeting Bishop. Discovering she... did not hate him after all. Going back to the Keep, deciding not to run anymore.

It was all too mind-boggling to take in. She sighed and gave up on trying to understand what was happening to her and opened her eyes again, just in time to see Sand emerge from the cabin and approach her. Her heart started to beat faster.

“And?”, she asked, bluntly.

“Well, I think I found the mark our dear Jaluth uses to direct her magics to him”, Sand replied. “It is as I thought. There is something that acts like a beacon to magic. It was hard to find, and it will be harder to remove, but I think it is possible.”

Lana sprang to her feet. “You have found the mark? What is it? Where?”

“It’s something like a small, very complicated tattoo. She must have applied it without him knowing, probably while he was unconscious.”

“What? A tattoo? Shouldn’t he have noticed he had a new tattoo?”

_I did not see any tattoo..._

“Well, let’s just say she put it on a part of his body he would find hard to examine”, Sand said with a wry grin, pointing at his backside. “Quite the... appropriate location, I’d say.”

“Well, then how come _I_ did not...”; Lana started, and broke off, blushing furiously, biting her lip. 

“Ah”, Sand said, looking smug, the snicker he supressed written all over his face. “As I said, it is very small, and might be mistaken as a birthmark at cursory examination. And I would guess you were... distracted.”

Lana blushed even more, and Sand took mercy on her, continuing in his explanations. “She tinkered with the Geas, but I think I will be able to undo it.” He smiled, if a bit weakly. “I will have to match my will against that of the Overwizard – but since, as you know, I’m a genius, I can see no difficulties.” He made a face. “I might have to give it a couple of tries, but in the end, I will manage.”

Lana closed her eyes for a second in relief. “Thank you”, she said, quietly, surprised at how glad she felt at the thought that Bishop could be freed.

The alternative would be... unthinkable.

_Would I have been able to do what he asked me to?_

She recoiled from the notion, the image of herself, kneeling in front of a bound Bishop, the dagger in her hands at his throat, making her feel sick, and was thankful that Sand hat started talking again, distracting her.

“I will have to return to the Keep once more, to get some more supplies I need, and I think I have something that might help our dear ranger to avoid the lovely Jaluth in the future. I will be back soon, and then I can perform the necessary rituals tomorrow.”

He nodded at her once more and started to turn away.

“Sand...?” Lana called out.

“Yes?”, he asked, eyebrows raised.

“How did _you_ find the mark?”, she asked, challengingly.

“Dear girl”, he said warmly, “I sensed its magic through his clothes, of course. And then I made Khelgar have a look.”

Lana broke into laughter and was still snorting when Sand had already vanished into thin air with a smug smile on his face.

xxx

Sand returned after an hour with another bag full of supplies. Lana helped him set up the scene for the ritual which he said he was “fairly certain” would free Bishop from Jaluth’ clutches, while Sand unceremoniously kicked Khelgar out of the cabin, so the dwarf would not “blunder” into the ritual at a crucial time. Khelgar grumbled when he left, but Lana got the feeling that deep down, he was relieved to be away from so much magic.

She watched Sand draw an intricate pattern of lines around the ranger, who was lying on the floor of the cabin, still tightly bound, using different powders, in various colours, most of which smelled acrid or bitter. Then she helped set up scented candles at strategic points of the pattern, listening to Sand explaining which scent was supposed to invoke which power, protective, strengthening, purifying, whatever. 

She had to admit she was much too nervous to take in anything he talked about. She found magical theory deathly boring at the best of times, but right now, she really had no head for it. It kind of took all her concentration and determination to keep from constantly peering at Bishop, take his hand, and try to convince him and herself that this was going to work.

_This is not your friend, dimwit. Time you got that._

When they were finished, they sat on opposite sides of the pattern, which formed a slightly irregular many-pointed star, each point consisting of a different powder and a different colour. The lines of the points met around Bishop, forming something of an imperfect circle. On each point, and where ever the lines crossed, there was a lit candle. The combined smells of the powders and the candles went to Lanas head, making it swim.

She closed her eyes to shut out the scene in front of her eyes, to be able to concentrate better. She heard Sand raise his voice as he started the first of many incantations that were supposed to counter the bindings Jaluth hat placed on Bishop. Sand had said that he feared that Jaluth had twisted the Geas to strike back at everyone who tried to interfere with it, and this was where Lana came into the picture. She was supposed to sense the rising of the magic of the Geas, and to try and _devour_ it with her own powers.

They were not sure it was going to work, but it was the best chance Sand saw. And Lana trusted in his judgement.

She listened with her eyes closed, concentrating on the feel of the magics that flowed through the room. The air got an electric quality in addition to the dizzying fumes of the powders and candles, and Lana found it increasingly hard to breathe. 

Sand chanted for a long time – she felt so lightheaded she had no idea how much time might have passed – his voice gradually rising, gaining volume. And then she sensed it, at the same moment Bishop made a low, pained moan.

Something new rose, some power, dark, malicious, strong. It felt like a cold, black, deathly wave that built up in front of her mind’s eye, and stood, slightly wavering, for endless moments, as if searching. She was frozen in fear, she never felt anything like it, and she felt petrified with terror, not able to do anything, like a rabbit watching the snake that was going to eat it.

Bishop’s moans had increased in volume and turned into screams, and it was this what brought her back to herself just as she sensed a kind of triumphant glee from the... the _thing_ before her, felt that it had found its mark and was about to strike. She knew that this was no mere spell, that this was something that was aware, _alive_ in a sense, and that it basked in their terror, their pain, and in the knowledge of their imminent deaths.

Bishop was screaming at the top of his lungs by now, in agony, and Lana snapped out of her stupor, and lashed out at the darkness she so clearly saw, even as her eyes remained firmly shut. She just knew that sight – real sight – would only distract her from her target, that this was something that could only be seen without using one’s eyes.

She gathered her powers around her, her hair lashing wildly into her face with the sudden wind that accompanied them, and thrust them at the thing before her, while Bishops screams turned hoarse.

_No! You’re not getting him... us!_

Sand’s chanting had risen even higher, his voice taking a desperate note as Lana sensed the darkness winding itself around the wizard, choking him. Then her own powers reached it, and she heard it shriek in her mind, as she tried to _devour_ the magic that supported it.

She felt it spin around, its inhuman senses reaching out, searching for the new threat, the new target, and shivered when they found her. Tendrils of black despair seemed to seep into her, and a wave of hopelessness rolled over her, making her just want to give up, to curl up and die.

She gritted her teeth and fought the feeling, fought to hold on to her powers, continuing to throw them at the thing, which was still shrieking as if in pain. Sweat was beading on her forehead, the first drops trickling down her temples.

_If Sand could go on while that thing was on him, so can you! Fight it! Fight! It shrieks! You’re hurting it! Go on!_

Bishop’s cries had stopped, as if he did not have the strength left to scream anymore, and all she could hear from him were moans and gasps, as if he was fighting for air, and even those were getting weaker.

_He’s dying! Fight! Fight that thing!_

With a determination she did not even know where she gained it from, she pushed the black despair aside and reached out to her old friend, the fury. And like a lifeline, it was there, rose in her, hot and bright, and burned away the darkness that tried to seep into her.

_You can’t have him! Die! Go back to the hells where you belong! YOU CAN’T HAVE HIM!_

With a hoarse cry of rage that broke from her throat, she gathered all her strength and lashed out with every ounce of power she could muster, lashed out at the coils of blackness she sensed around her, just as Sands voice reached a crescendo and broke off.

With a last shriek of pain and wrath that echoed in her mind, the darkness dissolved around Lana, and the atmosphere in the small room suddenly felt much less oppressive. Everything went quiet, save for her own elaborate breathing that seemed unnaturally loud in Lana’s ears.

Then there was a crashing sound, and a familiar voice swore in a language Lana did not understand, regrettably, because it sounded like a very good curse.

_“Baruk Khazâd!”_

Lana tentatively opened her eyes and found she had been flung back from the center of the cabin, where they had performed the ritual, and lay crumpled to the floor agains the wall. She did not even remember hitting it.

The candles had gone out, and the lines Sand had drawn onto the floor looked as if they had caught fire and burned into the wood. The air smelled more acrid then ever. On the other side of the ritual pattern, Sand sat, slumped and breathing hard. Now he lifted his head, and Lana could see his face was pallid, tired and sweaty, just as hers, presumably.

Bishop lay motionless in the center of it all.

With an anxious cry, Lana rushed to her feet, fighting down the nausea that rose in her, and stumbled to his side, where she fell to her knees, stroking his face. Then she saw his chest rise and fall feebly, and the wave of relief that rushed through her left her feel weak.

_He is alive._

She looked up into Sand’s face and met his eyes. The elf smiled, though a bit tired. “I think we did it, my dear”, he said, his voice hoarse and strained. “But it was a close call, I’d say.”

“What _was_ that?”, Lana asked, her voice no less strained than Sand’s. Carefully, she lifted Bishop’s head into her lap and continued to stroke his hair, refusing to dwell on the strange feeling of tenderness that rose in her and the trembling of her fingers, as they slid through the soft mahogany strands.

“An excellent question”, Khelgar’s gruff voice rumbled as the dwarf stomped through the hut. “All those screams and bangs and moans, and instead of a door there’s only solid darkness, so I throw myself against that but can’t get through, and then suddenly it’s gone and I find myself crashing to the floor. Care to explain, anyone?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, I’m not really sure”, Sand said, ignoring Khelgar’s snort that followed these words. “I knew Jaluth left something of a trap for anyone who tried to lift the spell, but I have never encountered anything like this. You did excellently, dear girl. Without you, we’d all be dead for sure by now.”

“Yes, but what was it?”, Lana insisted. “It felt... _alive_.” She shuddered. “I can’t describe it, but you know what I mean. That was no spell.”

“No”, Sand agreed, “That certainly was no simple spell. I think... I can’t be sure, mind you, but I believe Jaluth left something of herself behind to deal with everyone who tried to lift the spell. A bit of her essence, a tiny piece of her soul.” He looked at the still unconscious ranger. “He must be very important to her. He or the task she gave him.”

Lana shivered, as her hands continued to stroke Bishop’s hair. “His task was to bring me.”

Sand nodded. “I know.”

“But... why...? I mean, I played my role, and now that it’s over... I’m kind of no one, you know?”

Sand shrugged and struggled to his feet. “No one knows but her. And I don’t think we can pay a visit and chat a bit about her plans. We’ll probably never know. At least, that’s what I hope, because I really don’t want to cross her path again.”

“No”, Lana said, tonelessly. “Me, too.”

“So ye basically have no idea what’s going on, have ye, bookworm? I say, little surprise there. Bah. No matter. As long as it worked and we can go home now, I don’t care.”

“Yes”, whispered Lana, looking into Bishop’s pale face. “We can go home now.”

xxx

They rested the night, because none of them besides Khelgar had the energy left to walk more than the couple of steps to the next cot. Bishop still was unconscious when Lana fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

She woke the next morning with a headache and the vague memory of dreams of writhing darkness, and a heaviness in her heart.

It had worked. They had been successful. Jaluth had been beaten, and Bishop was free.

She should be happy. So why wasn’t she?

They had a meagre breakfast in silence. No one seemed to feel like talking. Bishop’s hands were free for the first time in two days, and he kept massaging his wrists and ankles, ignoring the distrustful glances Khelgar shot him.

Then it was time to leave. They left the cabin and Lana was racking her brain for something to say, when she saw Karnwyr slink out of the bushes, approaching his master with his tail between his legs.

Bishop sighed and crouched, reaching out to his companion. “Come here, boy”, he called out softly. Karnwyr’s ears pricked up, and he padded to his master, nuzzling his head into the outstretched hand.

Lana heard Khelgar and Sand retreat some steps, but she stayed, watching Bishop’s bowed head as he quietly talked to the wolf.

“You did right”, he said and stroked this companion’s fur. “You saved me. Thank you.”

Karnwyr licked his master’s hand with a kind of joyful yip, then looked up at Lana with what she could have sworn was a grin on his furry face.

She smiled at the wolf, even if her heart felt so heavy, and tears were prickling in the corners of her eyes.

Bishop got up and looked at her, and she tried to look normal, tried not to let him see what she felt. Whatever that was. 

“Thank you, too, Captain”, he said, and his voice was strangely soft and free from his usual cynical tone. “You risked your life for me, and you really had no need to do that. So – for what it’s worth – thank you.”

Lana felt her eyes tear up despite her best efforts, and quickly dropped them to the amulet that was dangling from his neck, the amulet Sand hat given him to provide protection from Jaluth’s scrying attempts in the future.

“Don’t thank me”, she said gruffly, to hide the pain in her voice. “I did not do it for _you._ I did it for a friend I lost.”

With those words, she turned, away from him, and stepped to Khelgar and Sand who were waiting for her some steps away. She could feel Bishop’s gaze in her back as he tried to make sense of her words, but she did not turn back to him, hiding her face, as the tears had started to flow down her cheeks by now.

She swallowed and took Khelgar’s and Sand’s hands, so the elf could bring them back to the Keep.

She was going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. The last chapter. I hope you enjoyed the story.
> 
> I know the ending is kind of open, but I really feel these were the best terms Lana and Bishop could part on at this point. Anything else just seems wrong to me.
> 
> I had a sequel all planned out and even partially written, but then life happened in the form of my daughter, and while I love her more than life, she's not an easy child, and between my really stressful fulltime job and really stressful life at home, I have a hard time finding the time or energy to write.
> 
> Still, this story is stuck in my brain, and I hate to leave things unfinished. So I hope that some day, I will be able to finish this sequel. By then, probably no one will read it anymore, but that's not the point.
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me, and putting up with my - let's call it infequent - update times. For which I'd like to apologize once more.
> 
> If all this is not enough to scare you away, I have another Bishop story simmering on my hard drive, and will probably be posting that too, so if you feel like reading that, I'd be glad to know what you think :) That one even has a proper ending, I promise.


End file.
